Children of the Tesseract
by Eversotd
Summary: Loki's theft of the Tesseract triggers more than the Chitauri War; the Avengers discover Midgard's center now for universal war with Dark Sorcerers, Immortals, Titans and the Avengers are overwhelmed. Enter: X-Men, X-Factor & many surprise allies to stand with Earth's Mightiest. Stark/Natasha, Hawk/Steve, Wanda/Pietro, Loki/Thor, Emma Frost, Magneto/Raven, Phoenix. Movieverse/myth.
1. Prologue

_Children of the Tesseract: Prologue_

Wanda's hands were ruthlessly steady as they held onto the shimmering white bands. They were so thin, they reminded her of spider's silk; part of her still wondered, even knowing, how they could hold such a legendary creature prisoner for hundreds of years.

But, she knew how: they were magic. And some of the most daunting magic she had ever encountered. She could sense monolithic power fortified into each bit of silken fiber; like fractal- jigsaw puzzles embedded within more jigsaw puzzles, mysterious intertwining's of magic barricading any rescue for her tormented friend.

His massive fur covered body laid helplessly on its side amidst the icy wastelands he had been condemned to- _condemned without committing any crime_, Wanda thought bitterly. She could feel his eyes fastened onto her; watching, yearning, daring to feel just the tiniest droplets of hope. He had been bound-abandoned- there for so many centuries, with only one occasional visitor; how he had stayed sane Wanda had no idea.

Her hands worked faster; then stilled. She detected it at last: a possible weakness in the mystical thread. Her sapphire eyes narrowed; she delved deeper and then saw it: a chink in the dwarves' formidable workmanship. If not for her unique ability, it would have gone undiscovered- for forever surely; but her chaos magic, pulsating through her every cell, caught the tiny crack…a microscopic deviation from perfect order. It would be enough. Straightening her slender frame, Wanda closed her thick-lashed eyes. Her power responded instantly: her gloved hands glowed scarlet red and the glow began flowing down the thread. Her bound friend stilled, sensing her work. Her magic rolled and bounded eagerly over the strands; multi-shaded, think waves of reddish power pierced every iota of the binds, sounding like an airy rushing of water as it moved.

Nearby, her companion, Ber, watched intently. The temperature was definitely below zero, but Ber seemed perfectly comfortable; over six foot tall and dressed in a simple black suit and tie, he looked like he came off the set of the latest _Men in Black_ movie- he even wore the shades, Wanda noted with a quirk of her ruby lips. His massively build body shifted minutely, probably in anticipation. Wanda took a breath, centered herself- and then attacked.

Her magic suddenly gave way to her mutant power: mastery over probability, her father had called it. Her large eyes suddenly glowed translucent scarlet and filled the area of thread enveloped by her magic; there was a loud cracking and popping noise- and then her power exploded.

With a yell, Wanda flew backwards, and re-grabbed her magic to catch herself just as Ber leapt to intercept her. His body launched over their friend's and covered 30 feet where he planted his large feet perfectly in the snow and in the next moment, Wanda's red-clad body landed in his arms.

"Oomph!" Wanda let out. She peered up at Ber who's brow was furrowed in concern.

"I'm ok," she immediately assured him and then nudged him gently to put her down. He did.

Wanda's heeled boots crunched against the snow as she made her way back to their friend. By all appearances, her power had failed; their hulking companion was still bound up in the thread, his large chest rising and falling as he breathed, his chilled breath making white streams that flitted up towards the clouds. Nothing looked accomplished.

Wanda grinned brightly. "Ber," she said with glee, "it worked!"

Ber's brow furrowed again; clearly not seeing.

Wanda grinned and headed back to her friend.

"Hurry Ber; we have to move before the Gatekeeper sees. My shielding won't work much longer."

Ber narrowed one eye at the obvious exuberance in her voice, but shook his head with a grin and followed.

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	2. Chapter 1: Arrival

**A/N: **OK, so first things first: WOW! I actually got views and reviews! That is so unexpected, yet VERY much welcome and hoped for! Thx a BILLION for reading and giving me your thoughts. Your feedback DOES matter to me… So plz don't be shy! So, here's Ch1 as promised! Let the games begin! Don't forget to REVIEW after! -Eversotd

_Children of the Tesseract Ch.1: Midnight Anomaly _

Pietro Maximoff stared fixedly on the array of screens before him. Monitors of different sizes displayed a variety of readings from satellites secretly scanning the earth's terrain and atmosphere for anything from electro-magnetic spikes to gamma anomalies. He couldn't sleep. The last few nights had assaulted him with nightmares of his sister, Wanda. He clung to the hope that the gruesome dreams were a sign, stirred in his sub-conscious from their unique connection as mutant twins. He reminded himself his sister was a powerful magician, a gifted mutant and skilled fighter- and too clever for her own good besides….

His stomach twisted. Were they visions? Had she gotten herself into some sort of trouble? Disaster followed her like an obsessed groupie; Pietro rubbed his temples, too steeped in his thoughts to hear soft boot steps behind him.

"I'm sure she's fine, Quicksilver."

Pietro started, then sighed and glanced behind him. A tall man with wavy black hair and copper skin gazed at him with sober, tempered eyes. "You forget who her father is," the man added dryly, "and how well he taught her- the both of you for that matter."

Pietro looked away and swallowed the scathing remark trying to leap from his throat. "I know," he said stonily instead, and leaned his head against the ebony chair's cushioned back. "I know Forge, but she's my sister; my _little_ sister." He paused, hating the words even as he added, "And it's been _two years_."

"She warned us all before leaving it might be this long."

"That doesn't make it easier."

Forge pursed his lips and settled into the swivel chair beside Peitro's. He gazed at his young friend, taking in the paler than usual face and barely-combed platinum hair. The only thing worry hadn't taken its toll on were the steely grey eyes, which were too serious for a boy of twenty-two years.

"I should have gone with her."

"You know that was never an option."

"I still should have."

It was Forge's turn to sigh. They had danced this dance for over a year; Pietro had decided that Wanda should have returned after 10 months; since then? Well, Forge had this conversation memorized long ago….

"Your father isn't worried; he has faith in her skill, and so does Lorna," Forge said instead, hoping to divert the conversation this time.

Peitro's eyes narrowed. "Father doesn't care if Wanda ever comes back now that he has Lorna, and Lorna hero-worships her sister. She has yet to figure out Wanda isn't invincible. _Wanda_ has yet to figure that out."

Touché, Forge thought wryly. "Still-"

One of the monitors beeped. Peitro's eyes immediately darted to it. He stood up and checked the readings. Forge spared it a quick glance and saw the hopeful expression Pietro wore as he adjusted the scanners to sweep a wider range. "Forge this reading-"he began eagerly.  
"Is not Wanda," Forge finished, taking one of his friend's wrists. "Pietro, watching these scanners day after day isn't going to hurry her back. She'll come back, we both know that. You've been staying up too many nights and not taking care of yourself. Now-"

The monitor, scanners adjusted to Pietro's new measurements, blared.

"What the?" Forge whispered.

Pietro's hands leapt to the keyboard, retrieving data and coordinates. "Forge, it's an inter-dimensional portal! It has to be her! It has to be!" He reached for the comm to call for the hanger's techs to ready the Hummingbird.

Forge intercepted his hand. "Wait a minute, you don't know that."

"But-"

"Let me verify the readings first, then we'll go."

Pietro opened his mouth to argue, but Forge leveled a stern glare at him. Pietro released the comm.

Forge went to work. He pulled the readings and multiple graphs scrolled across the brightly colored and illuminated screens, plunging he and his lean friend into a sea of lines, variables, symbols, numeric and topographical evaluations.

"It's a very subtle gamma emission," Forge said almost to himself; his fingers tapped faster, "but not like anything I've ever seen before."

Pietro leaned closer to one of the screens. "It's not Wanda then," he said, somewhat bitterly. "Where is it?"

Forge's fingers sifted for answers and then he suddenly stilled.

"Forge?"

"It's coming from a SHIELD base, not far from here."

Pietro gaped. "But SHIELD doesn't have-"

Forge looked at him. "Not unless they're being paid a visit."

Pietro grabbed the comm and called for the Hummingbird jet to be prepped – _now_.

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Fury cocked his gun just as the chopper swooped down over the jeep that raced below them carrying two of his best members- now bewitched by some intergalactic Houdini with a glow stick and way too much angst. He called through his earpiece for Hill and Coulson to try and pen close in, hoping that two pursuing jeeps and a chopper could overwhelm this 'Loki.'

Instead, the alien bastard shot his chopper and Fury jumped to the rocky ground before the blazing helicopter crashed in a nearby hill.

The explosion knocked Fury behind a boulder. He quickly shook himself back to his senses and reached for his gun.

He got three shots before Loki's jeep disappeared into the dust-filled night. He could have sworn he saw the little bastard smile.

A few minutes later Hill and Coulson, both blood-stained but cleared eyed and resolved were at his side.

"From this moment, we are at war," Fury told them.

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Professor Charles Xavier prided himself on two things: sticking to a proven routine and being able to adapt when said routine was jostled, rattled, and some days, blown up; which was why when it was past 1 am, he found himself staring out a bay window in one of his mansions living rooms, wondering why his telepathy was being bombarded with energies he had sensed only thrice in his life before.

The problem was all three occurrences had been in the same place, in the space of a few days: New Mexico, about a year ago. So…why were they happening again? He was about to head for Cerebro when the front doorbell rang. A flicker of a familiar presence ghosted against his thoughts, by way of greeting.

Charles pursed his lips. Well, she would stop by this late- and with no forewarning.

It was no surprise when he opened one of the heavy double doors that a tall, slender blonde in a white suit stood there, a hand on one narrow hip.

Xavier shook his head. "You have no excuses for not giving notice, Emma, you're a telepath."

Emma Frost snickered lightly. "But then I would be insulting your talents, Professor, by assuming you couldn't just sense my approach." Her body language was confident and in no way repentant of her late visit. Her frosted-blue lips formed a sober line. "And besides," she said, more grave now, "I didn't make plans to drop in so late."

"You've been feeling it too then."

"Yes."  
"Do you know what it is?"

"I do."

Xavier immediately backed away from the door and gestured for her to come in. The oak door clanked loudly in the quiet vastness of the foyer.

"I'm afraid, Xavier, we're overmatched for what's on the horizon," Emma said without preamble. "My…_associate_ whom you've met before-"  
"Who dropped off my most recent patient-"  
"Yes, contacted me an hour ago saying she uncovered evidence that we would soon be faced with an invasion."  
"An invasion," Xavier let the sentence hang.

"From _outer space_," Emma flatly said- the revulsion evident on her full lips.

Xavier let out a centering breath. "We'll contact every ally we have," he glanced up the large, elegant staircase behind them and sent for Jean telepathically. His brow furrowed. He couldn't sense her. What in the-?

The mansion suddenly rocked and shook. Xavier fell from his wheelchair and Emma yelped and grabbed for a banister to brace herself. Loud booms echoed through the massive house as something like an earthquake threw it about.

Emma and Xavier screamed at once as monolithic energy consumed the mansion, their minds and bodies and seared them like white fire.

And then it was gone, the mansion eerily quiet and still.

Xavier's body shook uncontrollably. His first thought was the students, but he hadn't sensed any screams from their minds, nor any pain; just panic and confusion.

_It's all right everyone; it's over,_ he sent soothingly. _Stay in your rooms until we know what happened._

He felt the students all hesitantly go back to their beds, complying. He sighed in relief. He checked them all once more for injuries, but no one seemed hurt. Perhaps it happened too fast… Thank God for that then.

Emma moaned from where she had pinned herself. "There is never a moment of boredom at your home, Professor," she said dryly, giving him a scathing look. She brushed herself off and sent out a telepathic wave. Looking around, she felt Xavier do the same. "Whatever it was, it didn't affect all of us; only we telepaths."

"I know," Xavier said softly. He could now sense Jean again. She was coming towards them, slowly. Emma looked at the head of the stairs.

Jean came out of the shadows, the large arch-shaped window at the head of the staircase spilling silvery moonlight over her, like a cloak. Her tall, lithe frame was trembling under her navy nightgown as she made her way to them. Xavier, with Emma's help, quickly reseated himself in his wheel chair and met Jean at the landing. Her green eyes were on the marble floor.

"Jean?" the Professor asked with concern.

Jean lifted her head, her large eyes met his. He heard Emma gasp.

Bright orange flames danced in Jean's eyes.

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**AN: **Just so everyone knows, I'm going with the ages of the X-Men characters (Charles, Jean, Emma) from the show: "Wolverine and the X-Men." I just don't want any confusion over which incarnation (cause there are SO many) of these characters are being presented in this story. Wanda also with be the incarnation from that show, but Pietro and Forge will be the incarnations from the 90's cartoons. I just like those versions of them better. Thx for reading! Don't forget to review!


	3. Chapter 2: Phoenix Warning

**A/N: **Again, thanks for the reviews and feedback. It's really awesome. Here's the next chapt! I hope you enjoy it

_Chapter Two: The Phoenix's Warning_

Professor Xavier reached for Jean as she crumbled to the floor. She moaned softly, her locks of ruby hair falling over her heart-shaped face. Xavier gently held her and brushed her hair away.

"Jean, I feel, I can scarce believe my own telepathy… is it truly-?"

Jean suddenly looked up at him; no, what was in Jean stared up at him with flaming eyes. A voice, too smooth to be Jean's rich alto, answered:

"Indeed, Charles Xavier, it is I, the Phoenix."

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Loki should have been pleased. As he stood in the dank compound the mortal Barton had guided them too, it hadn't taken long for the efficient SHIELD agent to gather supplies, soldiers and provisions for their stay. Strangers Loki had never seen before walked around in a variety of uniforms, all bearing ominous looking weapons, but as Loki observed them from the catwalk he presently surveyed them from, he felt no danger, only…unsettlement.

The underground facility that Selvig led them to was spare, but practical for their purposes; it boasted only concrete walls, bare piping overlaying most of the arched ceilings, and most corridors leading to the central area that they now occupied had open storm drains that spilled puddles of water into the cemented halls.

Hardly the gilt chambers of Asgard's Royal palace, but it would suffice.

Loki refused to let himself consider how much the facility was an improvement compared to where he had spent most of the previous year. But the chilling thought hovered on the edge of his awareness, refusing to be completely dismissed.

Loki shook the thought away and turned from the scene below. He would find a quiet corner to meditate…yes, that would help him refocus-

A tsunami of power suddenly resonated across the landscape, slamming into him without warning.

Everything went black.

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When the Hummingbird flew over, Fury recognized it at once.

_It figured. Nothing ever escapes that man's notice. _Fury had never worked with Forge officially, only as a liaison on some projects, but the man could have been blind and yet would still see everything without fail. It was just plain creepy.

Useful, yes; impressive for sure- but still creepy.

Pietro and Forge swept overhead, Forge catching sight of a tall dark skinned man in a leather trench coat watching them, wearing a patch over one eye. Fury; and right now, he had good reason to look that name.

Everything below them was havoc.

"Pietro, land near the Director."

Pietro nodded, hardly able to imagine what could have caused the catastrophe they were taking in.

The entire base was gone; a gigantic crater gaped like an open wound where SHIELD's base once formidably stood. It seemed to Pietro that the base had actually imploded; but how? And then a more grim thought took hold: what were they doing that apparently backfired on them to this extreme?

Forge leapt from his seat to meet Fury as Pietro set the sleek aircraft down. The engines still roared but Forge wanted answers now.

"Director, what happened? And what can we do to help?"

Under normal circumstances, Fury would have kept to secrecy, but too many of his people were still trapped in the rubble.

"We've got personnel trapped under the rubble. Coulson is bringing in medical assistance and Hill is leading search and recovery. But we could use any willing hands right now."

"I'll happily bring in every X-Factor member to assist."

"I'd be deeply appreciative of that."

While Forge radioed X-Factor base for any and all backup, Pietro found Agent Hill, a tall, thin brunette who was directing her operation with flawless precision. For a moment Pietro was reminded of Wanda, with Hill's perfect self-control and solid assurance.

"What can I do?"

Hill offered him a quirky smile, taking in his blue-leather uniform, complete with a lighting bolt blazing across his muscular front.

"I was about to ask you that, actually."

Pietro flashed a quick grin, and in the next instant, he was nothing but a blur of movement, throwing a quick, jostling wind in his wake. He flashed around a pile of rubble, scooping it up in a makeshift twister, and carrying it a few feet away, depositing it in a neat pile.

Hill's eyebrows rose, impressed; he was at her side a second later.

"I think we could use a man of your talents...Mr.-?"

"Quicksilver."

After Forge called in the rest of his team, he found the Director speaking with a medium height, lanky man whom he remembered to be Coulson.

"Director, I believe we have a conversation to finish."

Fury nodded at Coulson, who gave Forge a courteous nod, which was returned, and then strode away.

Forge said nothing, but waited for Fury to explain.

And since Fury was all too aware nothing ever slipped past Forge-damn him- there was no point in not being completely honest.

"Great Spirit preserve us," was all Forge could think to say when Fury was finished.

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"I have returned."

Xavier, Emma Frost and Jean, possessed again by the mysterious Force that called itself The Phoenix, all sat in the living room Xavier had been musing in not a few minutes beforehand. Emma sat primly in a two-seat sofa to Xavier's right, Jean, on the longer sofa to his left. Xavier had found a quilt to wrap his former student in, as she still looked pale and was shivering just noticeably even now.

"My apologies, Professor, but this human form needs time to adjust to my presence again."

Xavier nodded, and leaned closer to her. "Phoenix, why have you returned? What has happened that you feel you must come back to Earth?"

"Your time here was ended years ago," Emma put in, her tone flat. Her eyes were narrowed with disapproval.

"You believe taking this form again wrong of me?" Phoenix asked the blonde telepath. "When the world you cherish is again in unimaginable peril?"

"I think that your snatching a body without its permission, a second time no less is inexcusable," Emma retorted sharply, "that is Jean's body, not yours."

Xavier looked at Emma, about to ask her to restrain her anger, but Phoenix cut in. "If it pleases you then, mortal psychic-"  
"Emma Frost."

"Mortal Emma," Phoenix amended, "I will have the mortal Jean Grey explain all to you."

Jean's eyes unfocused for a moment, and the fire died away; intense emerald green surfaced and Jean rubbed her head with a moan.

"Jean?"

Her bleary eyes met the Professor's. "I told her it was all right, to share my body again."

"Why? Why has she returned?"

Jean's eyes widened. "Oh, Professor, this is even worse than the M'kron crystal."

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**A/N:** That's it for now. You'll find out later why Emma is not pleased to see Phoenix in Jean again. I am incorporating the 90's cartoon of the Phoenix Saga into this, not the X-Men movie-verse. I didn't like what they did w/ Phoenix there. Anyways, you know the drill: read, enjoy, review,…repeat! LOL. Take care and thx for the feedback!


	4. Chapter 3: Gathering

**A/N: **Ok, so first, sorry about the NO chapter breaks in 1 and 2. I DID put them in my type ups, but for some reason they didn't carry over when I uploaded them on Fanfiction. So, I'm gonna try a different approach that hopefully will carry over. I hope the previous chapt.s weren't too confusing with the invisible breaks, I didn't check until after. So, sorry, but plz enjoy. Onward and upward

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_Children of the Tesseract: The Gathering Storm_

When Loki came to, the mortal Barton was standing over him; his cerulean eyes intent and concerned.

"What happened?"

Loki pushed him away, indignant and pulled himself to his feet. "Nothing, an aberration," he snapped, "return to your duties."

Barton nodded and walked away.

Loki gathered his spear and sought a dark corner where he could gather his thoughts. From beneath a metal stairwell, he sat in a traditional meditation pose and stretched his thoughts outwards. Whatever had knocked him out was not of Midgard; that was easily deduced. Midgard had produced perhaps one actual force of magic in all the eons of its existence. All other magicians or magical entities were visitors- like him; but this miserable barren world that Thor loved for _Odin only knew_, was not famed for magical potency.

It wasn't famed for _anything_ really; what a favor he was doing this wretched realm by claiming it as his own. Loki allowed his thoughts to travel across mountains, rivers, through the vast noisy cities that these pathetic mortals had the gall to deem 'civilization.' Whatever the elusive force was, Loki would find it; he was certain of that.

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"And you say this being, Loki, stole a relic from a SHIELD base?"

"Yes, Professor, the Phoenix told me the relic is a lost jewel called the Tesseract."

Xavier took a steadying breath. Emma's posture tensed beside him. Her usual cold blue eyes were fixated at a point on the wall behind Jean.

"Emma, you said you knew what was happening. How?"

"Our, mutual associate told me. She said she sensed the inter-dimensional tear and recognized it as the Tesseract."

"She's had experience with this relic before then?" Xavier sifted through his memories. "When could she have? I've known her nearly all of her life."

Emma favored him with a dark grin. "She's not one to give away all of her secrets, my dear Professor, you of all people can appreciate that."

Xavier nodded, with a tiny chagrin. "Point taken."

"But the Phoenix went on to say that this Tesseract once belonged to a king," Jean added, not shivering anymore- _thankfully_, Xavier thought- and her lithe frame straight and purposeful again; the doctor again. "The king rules a dimension she called Asgard. Apparently, those stories about Norse gods, well, they're not just stories." Jean thought back to her mythology classes in college. "These people: Odin, Thor, Loki, Sif and the rest, they do exist."

Emma nodded grimly. Xavier wasn't the only telepath who had sensed their previous visits to Earth.

"But, apparently, they had a falling out in their kingdom; one of the princes, Loki, tried to take over, when it failed, he let himself fall from a bridge they call the Bifrost and everyone assumed he died."

"But he didn't," Xavier put in with certainty.

Jean shook her head. "No, he didn't. The Phoenix told me as she traveled the different realms, she sensed him sojourn from one plane to another; he was world walking. She didn't think him a threat then, so she let him be; but then he just vanished from her sight; for a long time, she couldn't see him anywhere. It was as though he ceased to exist, but she hadn't felt him die; until tonight, when she sensed him pass through the portal to Earth."

"Wait," Xavier clarified, "you said the Phoenix couldn't sense him until tonight. But she hadn't felt him die?"

"Yes."

"And when he walked through this portal, was he actually the one who opened it, or did he merely pass through it?"

_Leave it to Xavier to catch that_, Emma thought.

Jean stilled for a moment, Emma assumed she was asking the Phoenix for the answer.

"He didn't open it," Jean said at length, "he only walked through it."

"Does the Phoenix know who opened the portal then?"

Jean shook her head. "She says that she doesn't even know where the portal opened on Loki's end for sure; she says it's a very dark part of existence and no one ever goes there."

"Ever?"

Another head shake, her ruby waved and curls bouncing with the movement. "She says that she's sorry, but that part of the realms is simply known as forbidden and everyone stays away. She says that no one even really remembers why anymore, only that it's a terrible place and no one who ventures there returns again."

Emma cringed despite herself.

Xavier felt no fear from Emma, only dread. He pretended not to notice though; her pride would be mortified otherwise. "And so the Phoenix is here to help prevent whatever is coming?"

"Yes. She'll do whatever she can. She says she'll be able to use more of her power sooner this time because my body remembers her and will adapt more quickly." Jean sighed and her eyes fixed on Emma. The telepath's chilling gaze didn't waver. "I hope your mysterious 'associate' was able to shed more light on this."

Emma nodded, ever the cool-headed professional. "She said the Tesseract is a mystical gem; it was stolen from the vault of Asgard long ago during a war; no one by whom. She's investigating that now, actually. When she has information; she'll come to us."

"And in the meantime?"

"A SHIELD base was the focus of tonight's…'event.' I suggest we gather together all of our allies and meet with this head of SHIELD. By then, our associate will appear or perhaps other circumstances will arise. Either way, I recommend we be ready sooner rather than later."

Jean gave her a measuring stare. "And what 'allies' will you be bringing in Emma?"

Emma returned her stare with a patronizing smirk. "Not the Hellfire club, if that's what you mean, Dr. Grey. I don't know if the Professor told you," she went on, leaning back casually-confidently- into the small white sofa, "but I left the Inner Circle some years ago. The Cuckoos went with me, but Pierce and the others stayed behind."

"Why did you leave?"

"Shaw and I no longer saw eye to eye; we wanted different things, our goals diverged…and so I left."

The answer was too smooth, too easy; Jean turned to Xavier with a raised eyebrow.

"Jean, if Emma is willing to help us, I'm willing to accept her help. She and I have a mutual…friend who would not trust her without very good reason-"

Emma smirked.

"-that being the case, I think we need to put aside all else, for the time being."

Jean leaned straightened, not convinced, but willing to place their past on the backburner- for now. She nodded at length, and the Professor relaxed.

"Hey, what the hell, Professor?" a deep voice growled from behind them. "You know I expect several beers for getting up this early."

Jean smiled. Emma rolled her eyes.

Xavier shook his head. "I assure you Logan, in the event I suffer enough brain damage to allow beer into _my school_, you'll be the first to know."

"Damn straight," Logan muttered as he emerged from the pool of dark near the wooden front doors and crossed into the living room. He planted himself without ceremony beside Jean; lazily stretching an arm behind the sofa's cushioned back.

"What the hell is she doing here?" he added, glaring at Emma.

"Doing something you have yet to accomplish," Emma dramatically shot back, curling her lip at him, "being useful—while you _sleep_."

"I'll have you know, powder puff-" he shot back, leaning forward, and extending one claw instead of pointing finger.

"Logan," Xavier warned as Jean grinned despite herself.

Emma waved it off, her expression totally indifferent. "I'm hardly offended, Professor, all things considered," and she looked Logan up and down like he was a laboratory experiment- which he was- and they all knew it; Logan snarled at her line of thinking, "but could we please stay on topic?" she asked airily.

"Good morning, Professor, what did we miss?"

The four looked to the foyer, as more people oozed out of the black pool and joined them in the spacious room. A tall man with short auburn hair and despite the hour, was sporting red shades; a teen girl with wavy dark hair and glared daggers at Emma with large aqua eyes, a dark skinned woman with a waterfall of platinum hair who exuded calmness, and another girl, about twenty, who trailed in last, with cautious lime-green eyes and a white streak down her wavy cinnamon hair.

Cyclops, Shadowcat, Storm, and Rogue all dressed in shirts and jeans like it was just another day, took places in open chairs, and Cyclops conspicuously took the spot between Logan and Jean, which Logan grinned at; Rogue took the seat beside Emma, looking at her casually, like Emma was just another X-Men and not a professional criminal and international terrorist. Emma offered her a mild smile, as though impressed at her nerve. Rogue pretended not to notice it, ever the unshakable Southern girl.

"My X-Men," Xavier said, not at all surprised at their appearance; after the mansion shook, he knew they'd show wanting answers, despite his assurances before, "we have much to discuss."

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"It's called upstate New York."

At last, Loki had sensed where the mysterious Force had emanated from. He immediately sought Barton, who conveniently had the maps needed to identify the location of the anomaly that attacked him tonight. In a place called "New York," which was also the 'state' Barton called it where the famous man in the iron suit dwelt, this Force chose to reside.

"And what is in this 'upstate' land that would entice a powerful entity to converge itself there?"

"Well, Xavier's school is there."  
"What school?"

"Charles Xavier," Barton clarified, pointing to a large map sprawled before them across a metal table. A single light overhead illuminated the otherwise gloomy chamber. Loki vaguely registered the sound of dripping water in the background, as well as the good doctor Selvig barking orders at his subordinates and the grating of metal and tools being used.

"Go on."

"He has a secret school, housed in his old family mansion in this area," Barton continued, "he teaches a variety of students there from all over the world."  
"And what does he teach them?"

"How to use their mutant powers."

Loki's sharp gaze riveted to him. "Power?" This was unexpected; mortals with _powers?_ "Barton," he said his voice menacingly low and silken, "I think it's time you tell me all you know about all mortals you are aware of with…special abilities."

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The cleanup was going slow, Pietro thought with frustration. So far they had found a few survivors, who were immediately stabilized at the makeshift med center Coulson had set up before being shipped to the nearest SHIELD base via chopper. Forge had lent the use of the Hummingbird as well, as it was small and almost supernaturally fast- which is part of why Pietro loved flying the jet so much- but mostly they found bodies; crushed, dismembered, it was heart-breaking.

It was sad really; Pietro hadn't thought of Wanda for the last few hours they were assisting SHIELD; he was too busy worrying over the buried personnel, whether they were breathing their last just seconds before he found them, to think about his sister. It was sick in its irony. How many times had Forge told him: 'find something else to occupy your thoughts' and now he had- and he wished he hadn't; not this.

He super-sped a vortex around another pile of rubble and deposited it a short distance away. SHIELD agents had set up lighting around the perimeter, large square looking LED lamps; but Pietro could still see the pink smoke seeping from another pile of rocks and debris beside him.

Amelia.

The pink smoke took form of a woman only a few years older than him; her long spice-red hair looking copper in the blue light.

"There are three survivors down below; trapped in an ante-chamber," she told him, her voice rich and cultured.

What a relief, Pietro thought. "I'm on it."

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Loki returned to his corner beneath the stairs to meditate. It was hardly dignified for a prince to choose such a place, but he had gotten used to finding discreet corners in Asgard; it was the only way to get any blasted reading done without his constant bother for a brother-

Not brother, not brother, not brother NOT brother!-

Well, in any case, it was the sole means, Loki found, to have any true privacy or solitude.

He had much to think on.

His prior assessment of Midgard, it seemed, was…_slightly_ mistaken. There were in fact, individuals of talents and gifts that he would have to deal with before claiming Midgard as rightfully his.

He grinned, his blue eyes brightening in anticipation; he hadn't thrilled at the prospect of taking a realm without a fight- a glorious one no less. Mewling mortals, well, they had some champions in their ranks at least; all the better.

Thor would see through Heimdall; and would grip to the hope that their handful of gifted would be enough to save them. Oh, but how sweet it will be when he watches them fall; when the Watcher is forced to convey that they had lost and Loki now ruled the insignificant realm Thor held so dear.

How his bro- _how Thor_ would agonize over it; a savory taste filled Loki's mouth as he reveled in the thought of it.

He winced as a jolt of pain shot through his stomach. He massaged it gently, feeling fatigue overtake him again.

He had made a point of not looking at his reflection once they eluded capture. There were metal walls and panes of glass for the doctor's work, but Loki didn't want to see his appearance; not yet. He gazed down at his hands. They were white and far too thin, naught more than skin on bone. He would have to remember to eat, now that he was here on Midgard.

Now that it was _safe_ to eat…and sleep. He felt his eyes droop. He leaned against the cold concrete wall. It felt good actually; he was still feverish from the journey- and _before_. He shuddered and shoved the thought away.

He would sleep first; food could wait. He forced his tight muscles to relax and took a deep, relaxing breath.

Sleep consumed him almost instantly.

"Loki, Loki…"

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Loki found himself wandering a misty forest. Recollection pulled on the corners of his mind, but he couldn't quite place it. No, wait, that wasn't true, it was the forests of Vanaheim. The tall, winding trees of gold-tan wood, the gold tipped leaves and the breeze that whispered musically in his ears. It was all Vanaheim…where he met…

He pushed the thought away.

He knew he was dreaming now. _Wake up,_ he ordered himself. But, he couldn't. It was as though something was keeping him here.

"Loki…"

He darted around. He had heard that voice; the moment sleep took him, he recalled it now. But whom….?

"Loki…" the voice called again. It rode the breeze; he could just barely hear it.

But, it seemed to be coming from up ahead. Loki could just barely make out a path obscured by the mist and some dense bushes. He made for it.

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"Forge, I think we're going to need your team."

Forge scrutinized Fury, tipping his red-banded head to one side. "Your people can't trace the Tesseract."

Fury sighed. "I'm bringing in a couple…liaisons of mine to assist; but I think we'd benefit from X-Factors continued assistance on this."

"You're expecting the worst then."

_Damn his intuition_. "Yes," Fury replied at length. "We're preparing a special base to take over this operation tomorrow. I'd like you, Quicksilver and whoever else is willing, to join us. I've got Coulson bringing in some people, and I'm going to be making a visit myself later today. But, since there are so many unknowns, I'm not willing to take chances at this point. There's just too much at stake."

"Any and all of my people will gladly assist," Forge said, "but we're going to expect to be treated as equal allies; no 'off limit's this and that', agreed? We're going to need full debriefing and equal access to information if you expect us to be of any real use."

Fury stilled for just a split second before saying, "Of course; I completely understand."

_He is hiding something then_, Forge thought, but kept his face carefully neutral. "Then it's agreed," he replied, offering his hand.

Fury took it with a smile of relief. Maybe Forge doesn't catch everything after all.

Why was it he couldn't believe that though?

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Loki found himself at a pool shimmering brightly in the sun. A small waterfall fed it from a stream; he remembered this place far too well. Memories he had tried to forget ever since…

No, he couldn't venture down this path again. It was too painful, the wounds too fresh, even now, he couldn't, he couldn't-

"Loki…"

He looked up…and felt his heart fall and his breath freeze in his throat.

No, it couldn't be, it _couldn't_.

He felt his eyes fill.

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**A/N: ** I know, leaving it like this…. LOL. Terrible right? (Maniacal laugh) But it's the fun of being the author! Anyways, I'm uploading all these chapters tonight cause I'm not sure when I'll be able to again. I'm gonna try for next week, but I'm staring another course this Tues and already have piles of homework from my other classes, plus meeting a friend in a couple weeks who I maybe see once every 3-5 months. So…lots on my plate. Anyways, PLZ review and tell me how I'm doing, no flames please though. Take care and all the best


	5. Chapter 4: Assembly

**A/N: **OK, so I've been trying to make the chapters on Fanfiction have proper divides so you can tell where the breaks are…. And for some reason it's just not working- sorry. I've tried a bunch of different stuff, I guess it's just my luck ;p Anyways, I'll keep working on that, plz be patient on that front. Anyways, as always, thx for reading, plz enjoy and don't forget to leave your thoughts and input. *Disclaimer on this and ALL chapters: I don't own Marvel- chalk that up to my luck too! LOL; there will be some OC's eventually, those I own; the rest,…nope. Onward!

_Children of the Tesseract: Ch. 4- Assembly & Ascent _

Lorna Dane Lensherr awoke to the deep sounds of rumbling and her ornate bedroom shaking in the dead of night. Her large lime green eyes flew open and she was instantly upright as her furniture rattled around the floor and knick knacks fell from carved shelves.

Instantly she yelped and grabbed for one of the posts of her canopy bed, calling through her magnetic gift to her father.

_Father! What's happening?!_

_Be still my child, _his resonant, European voice filled her head consolingly; _it will pass in a moment._

And it did.

Lorna leapt to the floor, her bare feet practically sighing at the obscenely soft touch of the expensive carpeting and went in search of her father.

As Lorna strode through the spacious, metal corridors of their family palace, she found that far too many mutants were awake this time of night. Her father's Acolytes, his most loyal followers, who served as a combination of palace guards and the small police presence their island kingdom required, were all awake and attending to various duties. They were keeping mainly out of sight; but Lorna had lived on Genosha for many years now, since her mother, Susan Dane, was forced to give her up to her father, and she had become very receptive to the palace routines.

And everything felt out of sorts tonight.

She found her father on his favorite veranda, which overlooked the serene ocean and Lorna's extensive gardens.

"Lorna, you should be in bed, my child."

Lorna stopped in the doorway, feeling the cool ocean breeze caress her face. Her father stood near the veranda's edge; it was a half –circle, metal of course and elegantly carved and shaped.

He had his back to her, dressed in his typical uniform of red and chocolate brown, his long cape waving in the breeze. He was sans the helmet, and his bleach white hair was being ruffled by the night air.

"What was that, Father?"

He turned to her; like his castle his features and bearing were elegant as well, like a Grecian statue; Lorna mused, having seen pictures of them in her text books. His powerfully built body strode over to her, his regal presence tangible in the air.

He stopped before her, and gently reached up and stroked her face.

"Nothing that you should fret over my child," he told her, his strong voice softened by a father's need to assure his child, "an aberration, that's all. Now go back to bed."

Lorna knew he was hiding something; but she was equally certain that he would never tell her what.

That was okay; she would just find someone who did.

"Are you certain Father?" she couldn't just capitulate; he'd know she wasn't fooled then.

He nodded. His gaze brightened somewhat, thinking she was convinced. "Of course, now get some sleep."

Once, once, she would have believed and gone back to sleep, but that was before Wanda had been kidnapped years ago; her father had assured her then all was well- and then later she found out Wanda had been taken and forced to compete in an alien death match and was nearly killed, her and Nightcrawler both.

Nightcrawler, Lorna felt a pang thinking of him.

"Lorna?"

"It's all right, Father," Lorna forced herself to smile, "I just got lost in my thoughts."

She reached up and kissed his cheek. "Goodnight, Father."

"Goodnight." He stroked her face once more before she turned and walked back into the palace.

Lorna swallowed hard and made her way to an adjacent room. She opened the ivory door with

a click and let herself in. It was empty; the room was used for conversation and luncheons

while viewing the ocean. She sat in one of the wicker chairs facing the wall of windows and was

glad one of the windows was open a crack. She could hear the soughing of the waves and let

herself get lost in them.

Nightcrawler. Kurt.

She suddenly felt so guilty over kissing her Father goodnight.

Voices in the corridor flitted to her ears. Slowly, she rose and crept to the door.

"Our agents have reported in," a voice said. Lorna recognized it; Mystique, her Father's right

hand. She felt a new pang; Kurt had been her son.

"And what did they have to say?" her Father.

"The energy anomalies originated from two places; the first was a secret SHIELD base near the

West Coast; it was leveled by an alien energy portal that emitted very subtle gamma radiation.

The second…our agents couldn't get very close. It centered at the Xavier Institute."

Lorna repressed a gasp. Her father's friend, Charles Xavier? His school was involved?

Her Father must be very distracted, to not feel her presence so close. That and Lorna had been

drilling herself on perfecting her own magnetic gifts; what happened to Wanda proved to her

she couldn't rely solely on Genosha's security to keep her safe.

"And the type of energy at Charles's school?"

"Pyro-kinetic-based and _definitely_ extraterrestrial; we suspect it's the Phoenix."

Her Father was silent.

"Very well, have the agents continue to observe and report."

"No infiltration at this time?"

"No, Mystique, for now, I want you here."

Lorna heard her Father's boot steps as he returned to the veranda. A minute later the door

swung open.

Lorna bolted back as a tall woman with flawless royal blue skin and layered shoulder-length

orange-red hair came into view.

"Raven," Lorna squeaked, taking another step back.

Raven pursed her full blue lips together, and leaned against the door frame, letting her

perfectly formed body relax under her black leather pants and top with cut off mid-riff.

"Should I ask?" was all she said, her voice mock conversational.

"I'm sorry," Lorna blurt out, "I couldn't sleep."

"Why not?"

Lorna was going to say 'I was thinking about Kurt,' but then stopped. No, it was only two years

ago, she wasn't sure if Raven had put the past behind her or not. True, Raven had given up Kurt

when he was just hours old; she hadn't raised him or even had a real relationship with him; but

he had still been her son.

"I was thinking about Wanda," she said instead. True enough; Wanda had left shortly after

Kurt's death and she should have been back by now….

_Why wasn't she?!_ Lorna suddenly thought. Wanda should be here; if something was

happening, Wanda would know what to do; she always did!

Raven's beautiful face softened. "I know, I miss her too. Everyone does." She put an arm

around Lorna and guided her to the door. "But not sleeping won't bring her back. And you

want to be rested when she does come back, right?" She looked over at Lorna, who nodded.

"You won't be able to enjoy all of her new stories if you're dozing through them."

Lorna brightened at that. New stories. Hoorah! Wanda had the best stories about her

adventures. _I wish I had magic_, Lorna thought, her lip pouting.

"When do you think Wanda will come back?" Lorna suddenly said.

Raven grinned. "Knowing her, when we least expect it."

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The chopper flew Pietro and Forge to an aircraft carrier in the Pacific. The first rays of dawn

pooled across the horizon, their golden glow soft and soothing. Pietro wasn't soothed

though; his adrenaline was racing. The rest of X-Factor: Amelia and Havok namely, had stayed

at the disaster area, helping to finish up. Forge and Pietro were all but ambushed by Coulson at

the sight a few hours ago, all he said was they had to meet up with Fury and "the rest of the

team," whatever that meant.

"And who are these people?" Pietro had asked the deceivingly guileless man.

Coulson only gave him a mellow smile. Was the guy ever _not_ totally calm and composed? "Oh,

you'll see when you get there," was all he said.

Pietro sighed. Why did everyone have to be so mysterious?

The chopper landed and another agent, Hill, was there waiting. She ushered them to a part of

the landing strip as the sun spilled full into the sky, generously pouring bright daylight over

everything around them. Pietro made out a group of three standing near the landing strip's

edge: a well-built blonde man who blue eyes and a very kind face; another man, slightly

shorter, with dark hair and looking about as nervous as Coulson was serene; and finally, a

slender, lovely woman with short, wavy red hair and a very confident pose.

"Forge, Quicksilver," Hill began as they reached the trio and the group halted conversation to

take in the newcomers, "may I introduce Steve Rogers," she gestured to the blonde and they

shook hands, "and Dr. Banner," the dark-haired man; again, handshakes all around, " and

Natasha Romanoff." The red-head only said 'hi' and didn't shake hands…something about her

eyes unnerved him.

_Dangerous_, Pietro quickly labeled her. He saw Forge give her a measuring look and knew he picked up the same vibe.

Natasha leaned her head to one side and Pietro realized someone was talking to her via earpiece. She looked up at them.

"You all may want to go inside, it's gonna get hard to breathe out here."

Pietro and Forge followed Hill inside as they heard Banner say something about 'they want me in a pressurized vessel, under water?'

Pietro had heard about this vessel though; the Hellicarrier, so he wasn't surprised when personnel came out with oxygen masks and the vessel began it's very loud and dramatic ascent into the clear morning skies.

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**A/N: **Okay! The team is 'assembling.' I know, lots of unanswered questions in the bit about Lorna, but it WILL come together, promise. Stay tuned! It's now 3am, so time for ZZZ….


	6. Chapter 5: Remembering

**A/N: **Ok, so the battle between me and formatting these story breaks continues. SORRY for the 'not obvious' breaks. This shouldn't be happening to me…but whatever ;p Anyways, read-enjoy-review! Thanks!

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_Children of the Tesseract: Chapter 5- Remembering _

Loki felt his eyes fill. It couldn't be. Not here. Not now.

Before him stood the embodiment of perfection; tall, shapely with the most brilliantly golden hair of all time cascading down her narrow back. A sequined and beaded white gown covered her slender curves. Large, clear blue eyes filled his vision, and soft pink lips smiled, making him waver dizzily.

"Sigyn," he whispered, his lips hardly able to utter her name.

Sigyn, his wife, smiled again, her perfectly white teeth bringing out the rose of her lips. Her heart-shaped face took him in as she fluidly closed the distance between them.

"Loki, my love, it's been so long," she said, her voice purring in his ear as she stood before him and wrapped her bare, flawless arms around his shoulders, snuggling into him.

Loki was frozen. He couldn't move, couldn't think, and couldn't _accept _what was happening. He didn't know whether to scream, cry, kiss her until Ragnarok and damn all else-

His throat hurt. He couldn't breathe…couldn't breathe…. He sank to the ground. She let his body weight pull her down too; she ended up on his lap.

He choked against restricted breaths- and sobs.

He had to say it. He _had_ to keep himself grounded in reality; no matter how awful it was.

And it was awful; too nightmarish to bear…and so he no longer slept, too painful to carry…and so he had striven to no longer feel.

"You're dead," he finally choked out, refusing to look at her.

"Dead, my sweet," her voice came as he felt her hands caress his face and her lips brushed his cheek. He shuddered in longing. "But not parted from you."

Hot tears crept down his face. "Why? Why am I dreaming of you?"

"Because I asked to come to you, love; why else?"

He looked up at her, feeling, for the first time, just how hooded his eyes must be. "I'm only dreaming you. You're not…," he choked, "truly…here." He had to force himself to believe it; even if everything in him was screaming for it to _not be so_- and it was- he had to cling to the cruel, hideous truth.

Truth was vile; at least lies could be at times safe and comforting.

Sigyn only smiled, soft, gentle, and leaned against him; her perfume wafted up to him and he felt the scent intoxicate him as it always had before. He shuddered again, his body not knowing how else to react to pleasure. When had he last felt pleasure? He couldn't recall it.

He let his cheek lean against her silky hair; her hair, not Sif's had been the envy of Asgard. At least until she had died, five Earth years past.

"Please go," he heard himself whisper, and inside, he cursed himself for asking what he knew he must. "I must awaken now."

"Not yet, love, not yet." She looked up at him. "I waited for so long to see you again." She let an elegant hand slowly comb through his hair. "You're so tired, love."

Loki closed his eyes. "I know."

"You never slept well."

"I did when I was with you."

"You will again."

He started at that. His shadowed eyes met hers. He realized now, that her eyes were brighter than he recalled; almost unnaturally so. Bright sparkles lit those twin orbs; almost like tiny stars. Her hair too, he noticed, was also bright, shinier to a point it dazzled. She seemed so…free. His stomach sank.

"You really are here; you…came from Valhalla." His mind couldn't grasp what his lips had just realized.

Sigyn's smile widened. "My clever love," she said proudly.

He grabbed her instantly and fastened his lips onto hers. It was her, he wasn't just dreaming it; yes, it was a dream, but she had had magic, she had always been able to enter his dreams before, so why not now?

She moaned blissfully, shuddering and wrapped her arms around him, which only spurred him on. His lips found her neck and shoulders; he was so hungry for her, for her affection, for her love, he panted as his mind fogged over for longing to fill that emptiness in his soul with her anew.

Sigyn pulled him away a few moments later. Loki looked at her in confusion, his eyes glazed over with passion. Her expression was apologetic…regretful even.

"Darling, I don't have much more time."

Loki could practically hear his world crumbling all over again. "No," he said, half gasping, "you can't…you can't leave me again." He felt himself trembling against her. "We were so cruelly separated…_please_-"

The memories came back in a rush: her ashen face, her limp, lifeless body in his arms-

"My love, I came to give you the most wonderful news-"

"I'm going with you." _Please, please let it be that; I'll pay any price…_.

Sigyn looked sad at that. "No, I wish…but no." She looked down, crestfallen, and then met his eyes again. "Love, you can't leave now, not yet. You have children, children who need you."  
Wounds ripped open; fresh, merciless, claws ripping through his already broken soul. He broke from Sigyn with a strangled sob and stood, shaking uncontrollably.

As he spun on his deceased wife, he saw the dream begin to fade. _No_, he thought, _please no_.

Sigyn noticed too. Her expression sobered. "Love, please listen-"

"Sigyn, do not leave, please…I need you-"

"There is no time left-"

Loki reached for her, but his hand went through hers. He stifled a sob. _No, not again, please_ _not again_. The memories swirled around him: _her body covered with flowers, the empty_ _condolences for his loss, Thor holding him as he screamed and sobbed_…

"Wife-"

"Love, you were right to come to Midgard," Sigyn said as she faded away with the dream, her voice almost too soft to hear, "there is something here that will bring you great happiness. And I want you to be happy, my darling, please find it on Midgard. I so long for you to be hap-"

"Sigyn!"

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Loki woke with a gasp, bolting upright. He had screamed in the dream, so no one heard him as he woke.

Loki panted as he tried to calm his pounding heart. On the other side of the compound he could hear the sounds of work progressing. The dank chill in the air made his throat hurt.

Sigyn. She had been real; she had been _there_, in his dream.

_I want you to be happy._

Loki could feel the tears slip down his cheeks; he didn't care. He had long since ceased to care about anyone or anything.

_Your children need you._

His children. He trembled. How could they need him? He had failed them; all of them. Hela, his lovely daughter? Cast out as a "monster." Sent to be the stewardess of Niflheim, land of the unworthy dead- the unworthy sent to rule over the unworthy, Asgard had said behind his back.

His son, Jorgurmand? Cast out as a "monster" to Midgard. Loki felt a stab of guilt. His son was here, on Midgard. Why had he not sought him out yet?

And tell him what? And face him how? Loki coiled in on himself and sobbed. He had failed his eldest son; Jorgurmand had had no magic, he was no threat to Asgard, but Odin still threw him into the Bifrost and exiled him to earth. And why? For not looking like an Aesir; Jorgurmand was a sea creature. The most terrible part was he still fared better than Fenris. Frigga had had a vision of Loki's youngest son causing the end of Asgard, Ragnarok, when he was little more than a pup. And so Odin had him bound while Loki was away; Loki returned from a successful mission only to find he had been betrayed-again- by the "father" he tried so desperately to please.

Betrayed by all of Asgard; no one had spoken for the prince's son, no one had pled as Fenris was left bound for all time. No one had even tried to comfort him when Fenris began to howl in despair; they had jammed a sword in his mouth to keep him quiet instead.

Loki sobbed harder, remembering when he had finally found his son, how he had futilely tried to pull out the sword; how he had spent months at a time locked in his library, searching feverishly for a way to free his child.

He remembered when he would visit Fenris; he would promise him one day he would find a way to free him. He remembered how the years became centuries, and Odin uncovered his plans to liberate his son. He remembered how Odin threatened to strip him of his magic forever if he didn't cease at once.

Fenris had given up hope then; Loki had sobbed against Fenris for days, begging for his forgiveness; begging him to not give up, that he would think of another way to save him.

But of course that day never came. Even now, his precious son was imprisoned, over an accursed vision. Loki had tried so hard to not hate his mother for that vision. Yes, she was Odin's wife, yes, she was surely terrified for her husband, for all of Asgard; and no doubt everyone told her that she should not expect anything else from one of Loki's 'monstrous children,' but….

She has still caused it. She had not pled for them to find another way.

Loki sat up, feeling the safe haven of emptiness return. It was better when he felt nothing, it was safer, and there was no pain in nothingness.

It would be different when he ruled Midgard. Odin would have to respect him then, acknowledge him then.

As a king, he could offer safety for Jorgurmand. Jorgurmand would be a prince of Midgard, not an outcast.

He would visit Hela when he wished. Who would Odin be to tell a king of another realm that he was forbidden to see his own daughter?

He would demand Fenris be freed. Loki felt his rage rise; he welcomed it, let it envelope him like a cloak. With the Tesseract, he would have power enough to either liberate Fenris himself, or threaten to level Asgard if Odin didn't have the wretched dwarves remove the binds.

That thought comforted him. They would be a family again; a real family. As king of Midgard, no one, Odin included, would be able to separate him from his children again.

He would have no mercy for anyone that tried.

_I will be happy, Sigyn, I promise you that. My children will be safe here, and I'll destroy anyone who tries to interfere._

_Sigyn, I love you so much._

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**A/N: **I was going to keep on after this sequence, but I thought Loki and Sigyn needed their own chapter. Hope you enjoyed. Review plz!


	7. Chapter 6: Meetings

**A/N:** Again, to y'all: thx so much for the reading and reviews! Haven't gotten tons of reviews yet, but am VERY happy for the ones I have! Yay! Anyways, here's where the fun begins, so enjoy and PLZ leave a review! Onward!

**Psst: Duh, Marvel is NOT mine, woulda been awesome had it been! LOL….

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_Children of the Tesseract: Chapter 6- Meetings_

Once ushered into the massive flying 'fortress,' Forge labeled it to himself, Fury was easily enough spotted in the main control room, watching with a very keen eye as the various personnel either ran back and form preforming their tasks, or calling out directions and reports from their very advanced looking stations.

Forge let his gaze sweep over the plethora of technical panels with an appraising eye. The tech was obviously state-of-the-art, cutting edge stuff; the controls for the Hellicarrier's propulsion systems and navigational were particularly impressive, Forge noted.

Fury stood within a slightly raised area with both hands on elevated panels as he called for them to "disappear." _What spy organization wouldn't have a cloaking device; _Forge wryly considered, _especially for a base of this size. _ Even in America, air-craft carriers typically weren't seen traipsing over the cloudscape.

Forge and Pietro made their way to a table, where 'the group' had congregated nearby. The inventor watched curiously as Rogers wordlessly handed a ten dollar bill to Fury and Dr. Banner shied away from some guards near a large doorway.

Banner had been on the run for a long time, Forge recalled; it wasn't surprising that he was wary. But, he seemed to calm a bit when Fury walked over and thanked him for coming.

"Thanks for asking nicely," Banner eventually said, shaking his hand.

Pietro, ever one for action, didn't waste time. "So, what is the situation?" he asked to no one in particular.

Coulson though, was the one to answer. He explained how they had tapped into cameras all over the world for visuals of Loki or Barton, were tracking down resources they might need based on what Loki stole from the SHIELD base…at that point Banner kindly jumped in with some suggestions on how to narrow down the search.

"I have some equipment back at base that might be of service, Dr. Banner," Forge put in. "I've been working on some proto-type models for tracking more indistinct energy signatures, or signatures of a…supernatural origin." Made sense, considering one of his members, though absent, was a magician.

"I'd welcome your help," Banner said with a grateful nod.

"Agent Romanoff, could you show Forge and Dr. Banner to the lab?" Fury asked.

Natasha nodded. "This way, boys," she said, striding towards the large doorway nearby, "you're gonna love it, we've got all the toys."

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Pietro smirked as he watched his friend and the reserved doctor follow Romanoff out of the room. A cool customer her, Pietro wondered if ice would even melt in her hand; he doubted it.

Nearby, one of the panels beeped an alert. A young agent immediately reacted and his jaw dropped. "Sirs, we've got a signature."

"Where?" Fury demanded, leaning over his shoulder.

"Upstate New York."

"Near the Xavier Institute?" Pietro heard himself blurt out. Rogers looked at him in confusion. _Of course, he doesn't know about the X-men, _Pietro realized.

"Checking GPS coordinates." A pause. "Yes, three miles due northeast of the Xavier Institute."

Fury looked questioningly at Pietro. The whole group did, actually.

Pietro sighed with immense relief. "Finally, she's back."

"Who, Pietro?" Rogers asked.

"My sister." He looked at Fury, who's eyes narrowed in suspicious bewilderment.

Pietro quickly explained. "She's a magic-worker, but on our side. She works with X-Factor, like me, but she's been away for a couple years," he bit that last part out; he hated it when they worked separate, his elder brother need to protect frazzled itself crazy every day she was gone. "It was magical business. I don't know the details." And if he did, Fury didn't need to know anyways.

Finally, finally, finally, she was home; there was no solid proof, true, but he just knew it, could sense it. He felt world's worth of anxiety and worry melt off of him. It was suddenly easier to breathe. He zipped to the doorway, hearing gasps when he stopped. Oh, that was right; only Hill had seen him do that. He smirked apologetically.

"Sorry, this is my mutation; super-speed." He looked to Fury. "I'm gonna take the _Hummingbird_ and meet her. Tell Forge for me, would you?"

Fury nodded with a "Be careful, in case it's not her." Pietro was gone in a burst of wind, ruffling Fury's trench coat and causing Rogers to gape in amazement. It felt kinda good actually, the Captain admitted to himself; someone having superhuman abilities besides him.

He didn't feel suddenly so alone.

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Captain Rogers was jarred from his thoughts by another alert from a different scanning panel. He heard keys being typed as he turned to the source.

"Visual scanners have picked up a match to the target, sir."

"How much likeness?" Coulson asked as he drew near the screen to look.

"65%…no updated scans say 72%."

Fury turned and asked the young agent, "Where?"

"Stuttgart, Germany."

Fury looked to Rogers soberly. "Captain, you're up."

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**A/N: **I know it's short but I wanted to get something uploaded today. Enjoy, more is coming soon. I've got more homework waiting, but I wanted to get at least this interval up. Thanks and have a great rest of your week!


	8. Chapter 7: Reunions

**A/N: **OK, so here's where the fun begins; hope you like it! Again, feedback welcome

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_Children of the Tesseract: Ch. 7-Reunions_

_It was so easy,_ Loki thought with a tiny grin, (but almost disappointed) as he sauntered through the cavernous, white marble chambers. He had arrived with Barton and their team at this place called 'Stuttgart,' and as the shadow agents melted into the darkness around them, Loki simply conjured an appropriate ensemble of a tasteful black suit with patterned green scarf, and altered his spear into a walking stick before venturing off in the direction of the large building where the iridium was locked away.

Entering was simply a matter of materializing an invitation and presenting it to the all-too-polite greeter, who nearly fell over when he flashed her his most charming smile.

Humans; so easily manipulated. Controlling them once he claimed their dismal world would take no effort whatsoever. All the better; ruling wasn't the goal anyways.

Securing a safe haven for himself and his children was.

Once inside, no one paid him any mind as he casually wandered the corridors before locating the assembly where this famous scientist was offering up his latest research to a large party of wealthy patrons. But he was equipped to mingle among the privileged elite- who knew nearly two thousand years of tormenting court functions would finally prove beneficial! Loki smirked at the irony of it before striking the lone security guard protecting the target, only to have the blissful cacophony of panicked screams kiss his ears.

He pushed the distraction aside long enough to seize the scientist by the throat and pin him to a marble statue before whipping out the device Barton gave him to scan the man's eye.

He could have threatened the mortal to willingly submit; but where would have been the fun in that?

One downwards swing later- and another eruption of screams- and said device found its mark.

The mortal struggled, but only for a few moments; Loki enjoyed the man's futile attempts to save his now worthless life while drinking in the chaos around him.

He breathed in their hysteria…soaked in the wails and stampeding sounds of heels and loafers as hundreds of lowly mortals ran for their miserable lives.

Well, they could; the man below him no longer had a life to save.

Loki released his now limp victim and with a feral grin, strode leisurely after his future minions.

They would submit to their new ruler.

Now.

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"I said…KNEEL!"

Loki watched as the petrified masses before him slowly, tremblingly, lowered to one knee and wondered in amazement how they could not see that it was meant to be. This was their place; quiet and submissive at his feet.

No bloody wars.

No senseless carnage.

No futile quest for a freedom that only brings pain and suffering.

Just order, humility; submission…and peace.

The weak bowing to the strong; all knowing their place.

It was destiny in its finest moment.

"Is this not better?" Loki asked. Even these lowly beings surely had to sense enough to see it. "Is this not your natural state?"

Loki gestured to them as his clones glowered threateningly at any who dared resist. He walked among his future subjects as they recoiled from him with wide, panicked eyes. He savored it; he could taste and smell their fear. It invigorated him; heightened his senses. Oh, how powerful their fears made him. He could scarce keep focus, it made him so heady with power.

Control; for once, he was _controlling_, not being controlled.

So, this is how it felt to be Odin; to be Thor. His mouth formed a feral grin.

He went on with his speech, demanding that they see what was plainly set before him- before them; he was destined to be their king.

But always, always, there was that _one_ fool.

An old man stood up, proud and obstinate and glared at Loki. Something in his eyes made Loki think the old man had danced this dance before. Strange….

"Not to men like you," he declared. Something in his tone said: _never again_.

Loki brushed it aside. "There are no men like me."

"There are always men like you," was the brazen answer.

Ah, so another had come to this land before, Loki realized. Well, obviously he had failed.

Loki would not fail.

"Look to your elder, people," he told them, relishing this opportunity. A show of power would cement to the terrified mortals where their place was, "let him be an example-" his scepter glowed ominously.

The man's eyes widened-

A horizontal pillar of multi-shaded, red power blasted from nowhere and slammed into Loki. He went flying with a yell before connecting loudly with the large fountain behind him.

He grunted as the concrete met his back and he toppled in a clanking heap of golden armor, his emerald cape dropped over his head, now sans the helmet. He heard a feminine voice order the deathly silent crowd:

"Run, get out of here."

With a chorus of yells, sobs and wails, he heard the pounding of feet and they did her bidding and ran for all they were worth.

But one light, delicate sounding set of steps drew closer.

Loki shook away a slight vertigo before brushing his cape back behind him angrily. His rage was bubbling over. Whoever was so _foolish_ would taste his most terrible wrath. His scepter sat a few feet away, opposite his helmet. As he reached for the weapon the sound of heels stopped before him and his eyes riveted to the foolish intruder. And he blinked in shock.

A few feet away, steeped in a pool of shadow cast by a large hedge of trees, was the tall, slender silhouette of a woman. The lower half of her was not overcast, and Loki took in the sleek length of a very elegant, scarlet red gown made of some shimmering cloth. Yet while a woman, that wasn't surprising; what confounded Loki was it was certainly _magic_ he felt attack him…but this woman had _no_ sense of magic.

How was it possible? Had she used some sort of medallion? But why then did he not sense _it_?

He tried to make her out better in the shadows, and one thing caught his attention at once: her eyes. They were large, and sapphire blue; in fact they were so exactly the color of the night, Loki could have easily mistook them for facets of the evening sky, except how they blazed at him, alight with a fierce glower.

His armor rattled as he made to rise, but instantly the woman took a step toward him and reached out a hand, making a fist. Crimson, fiery talons took hold of him and Loki grunted in surprise and frustration; again, he didn't sense it, but struggle as he might, the translucent binds only constructed harder against him.

With a feral hiss, emerald eyes met sapphire. "What are you?" he demanded.

With a rustle of silk, the mysterious woman slipped into the moonlight. Had Loki not been so overtaken by fury, he would have gasped.

She was…beautiful.

No, beautiful couldn't even begin to conceive her; she was glorious. Her shapely body was flawless, held in a confident poise; a long, thick mane of chocolate-bronze curls swirled down her back in large bouncy curls. And her face…it was hard for Loki to breathe, his rage suddenly forgotten.

But some tiny part of his mind registered her beauty wasn't what held him transfixed. Some other…something radiated from her…but what-?

The woman scrutinized him in return. And then it hit Loki; she was surprised by what she was seeing. Her eyes held the glimmer of….

Recognition?

The grip on him suddenly tightened. Loki did gasp then as his breath was forced from him.

"A bit far from Asgard, aren't you, Prince Loki?" she questioned sharply, her eyes cobalt infernos.

Loki repressed a start. They'd never met; he would surely recall it. How then did this…whatever she was…known of him?

A searchlight landed on them suddenly with a loud clanking sound. Loud engines met their ears and stirred up the wind around them. The woman hissed in annoyance and shielded her face with one arm as Loki turned away. A second later, when he peered back through squinted eyes, the mysterious girl was gone; as were the scarlet flames that held him fast.

"Loki, we have you cornered, stand down," a broadcasted voice from the machine commanded.

Well, why not? It was all part of his plan…and he suddenly needed the time to think anyways.

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He was half lost in his meditations when a well-built man in a blue uniform with a white star and colored stripes appeared, demanding he let himself be cuffed and not resist "military arrest." Barton had told him all about this "Captain America," the man out of time. As he was led to the flying machine Barton called a 'Quinjet' without complaint, only to have another visitor arrive.

Loki blinked as what looked like a man landed beside them out of thin air, but he was constructed entirely of gold and red metal.

Well, the gold Loki could go along with…but the red? He could pass on the red.

The man's face plate lifted to reveal a dark haired mortal beneath. Ah, so this is the Man of Iron then.

The Captain started, and quickly retightened his hold on Loki, now bound. "Mr. Stark? What are you doing here?"

Loki kept his face neutral. A lack of communication? Better and better….

"Well," Stark answered with a dramatic wave, "I was gonna fly in and rescue you at the perfect moment, and catch this guy off guard-"

Inwardly, Loki snorted.

"I even had this great backup music I was gonna pipe through this piece of crap," he shrugged dejectedly, gesturing at the Quinjet, "but I guess I'll have to save it for next time." He regarded Loki.

"Kinda pale and thin for a would-be super villain, aren't ya big guy?"

Loki only smirked in reply. Overconfident too; this one would prove useful.

The Captain nudged Loki to board the jet. "Appearances can be deceiving, Stark."

_This one has some sense at least, _Loki thought. Well, so far Barton was proving exactly correct on his appraisal of these would be 'teammates.'

"Yeah, I know, he's got the pale part right, lots of villains do that, and he sure looks creepy enough… but don't you think he looks too, well, _half-starved_ to be a villain. I mean, I don't want to beat the guy up. I'd want to give him a sandwich first at least-"

"Stark…"  
"Seriously, Cap, don't you think he looks too malnourished to be a super villain?"

Loki wasn't smirking now; he leveled Stark with a glare that could melt steel.

Rogers caught it as he buckled Loki to a seat. "Stark, we don't need this. What are you even doing here?"

_Smart man, changing the subject. How many times had that worked on Thor?_

Loki pushed the thought away as he heard Stark say something about Rogers not being told everything. As if that wasn't obvious already, Loki reflected, repressing a snort. But this was not the time to be thinking about his _not_-brother.

Why would he even come to mind now anyways?

Loki heard the same woman's voice who had told him to stand down give the orders for lift-off. He glanced at her. The assassin turned SHIELD agent; the one famed for killing until her 'redemption.' Loki knew better though; there was no redemption, not for people like her.

Not for people like him. Her ledger was gushing with blood- but so was his.

And in his case, more blood was soon to be added; an entire world's worth of it.

She would soon appear a saint compared to him.

The two men's voices caught his notice again.

"….too easy, this guy packs a punch; I watched to footage from Stuttgart."

Again, the discerning Captain. No matter; even with his vigilance, when the time came, he'd be overwhelmed by his cohorts. There could be no true cohesion amongst such a group; Loki knew that from experience. Sif, Thor and the Warriors Three were no different. It had taken them hundreds of years to learn to work together as they did; but before? They were just as these people were now; divisive, inciting, and obstinate-and so forth. They were begging for a match to set fire to their collective kindling.

And Loki would happily oblige them.

Overhead, thunder rumbled.

Loki's stomach sank. _No, it was impossible._ He barely repressed a shudder.

"What's the matter, you scared of a little lightening?"

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**A/N: **OK, so things are picking up pace. Hope you enjoyed. Remember, feedback welcome. More to come!


	9. Chapter 8: Elder Brothers

**A/N:** Ok, so I saw my traffic stats today and wow! Over 300 views so far! I'm blown! Moreover, this story is being read all over the WORLD! US, France, Italy, Jordan Australia, Thailand, China and all over the place! I'm so stunned and amazed! U guys are all epic and THX a billion for reading! Anyways, my gushy exuberant moment now aside, we now rejoin the action!

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_Children of the Tesseract: Ch. 8- Elder Brothers_

Captain America watched the play of blue-white lightning overhead and saw Loki rivet his attention skyward, apprehension in his cerulean eyes.

"What's the matter? You scared of a little lightning?" he asked skeptically. He had seen the wreckage of the SHIELD base and the footage from Germany; he doubted thunder could actually rattle this guy.

Loki leveled him a look that said: _'If you only knew_.' "I'm not overly fond of what follows," was what his words said; his tone said: _you're an idiot_.

A second later, the aircraft jostled as something landed atop it. Rogers reflexively grabbed his shield while Stark, stone-faced, yanked on the control switch that opened the rear hatch.

Rogers opened his mouth to demand what in the world Stark was _thinking_, if not for the caped giant that dropped into the hatchway.

Stark moved without hesitation to intercept him, catching Loki's wide-eyed expression in his peripherals, but the blond intruder was too fast. He sent Stark flying against one of the metal walls with a loud crash and grabbed Loki, who didn't resist.

Rogers swung back his shield to intervene, but the man, who was dressed unsettlingly similar to Loki, but in red and silver, pelted him in the stomach with a large hammer. He landed roughly beside Stark a moment after, with a loud "oomph!"

Natasha watched the blonde man dive out of the aircraft clutching Loki by the collar of his uniform. "Another Asgardian?" she asked in shock, struggling with the controls to keep the wobbling Quinjet under control. This could not be happening. They already had one mysterious player to deal with; whoever had incapacitated Loki in Stuttgart had not been from SHIELD.

"Is he a friendly?" Rogers asked, gasping for breath as he painfully rose; pummeled by extraterrestrials-that was new for him.

Stark's face place sealed with a 'clank'. "It doesn't matter; if he frees Loki or kills him, the Tesseract is lost." He marched for the opening.

"Stark we need a plan of attack." A soldier never engaged the enemy without a strategy; it was suicide.

But Stark had a different philosophy: "I have a plan: attack." And his turbojets fired as he blasted away.

Rogers sighed. This was not panning out as he had hoped-for teamwork and coordinated input. He reached grimly for a chute. Somehow he knew he'd be the one to fix whatever _catastrophe_ was undoubtedly coming.

Widow, ever the pragmatist, had another idea. "I'd sit this one out, Cap."

"I don't see how I can." At least by playing referee, he could do damage control. Better that than let the unknown man and Stark beat each other to a pulp- metallic, alien or otherwise.

Widow's sense was not to be disregarded lightly though. "These guys come straight out of legend," she emphasized, her tone more saturated with finality, "they're basically gods."

Rogers gave her a blunt look. "There's only one God-Man," he retorted, "and I don't think he dresses like that." And snapping the last chute strap into place, he grabbed his shield and leapt.

The dark, cloudy night welcomed him with chilled, open arms as he plunged to earth- and God knows what else.

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"Do I look to be in a gaming mood?!" Thor demanded.

Loki actually heard himself chuckle at that. After everything else he'd faced, endured…suffered-no, he pushed that thought away, his not-brother would ask _that_.

"You should thank me," Loki snarked back, feeling the old patterns of their 'talks' settling back into place. "How much dark energy did the Allfather have to conjure to send you back here; your precious Earth?" his tone was acidic by the end; he hated this wretched world; this vile realm that took what little of his brother –NOT brother- from him that he'd had left-this realm and that _accursed_ woman scientist. Such a pity she hadn't been there at the mortal's secret base; he'd already decided long ago on how he'd deal with her.

No matter, he'd find her later- and she _would_ pay.

Thor only looked at him with a long face, and somber eyes. It made Loki freeze as he rose; he hadn't seen that expression on Thor's face for centuries at least-not since Fenris.

"I thought you dead," he admitted, clutching Loki by an arm, his other hand familiarly grasping the back of his neck. Thor was too distracted by his whirlwind of emotions for it to register how much thinner Loki felt under his hands. His paleness he chalked off to the moonlight.

"Did you mourn?" Loki bit out, his tone almost challenging; no one did, he was certain of that. The weakling younger prince, the spare heir, the disgrace who had fathered 'monsters,' who had sired the Allfather's foretold destroyer; no, _no one_ mourned him. Celebrated; more like, as they had when Fenris had been bound. He winced, unwillingly.

But Thor looked at him incredulously, as though the answer should be obvious. The worst part was, Loki knew, it _was_ obvious…to everyone but Thor. His idealistic elder bro- no, _not-_brother, had always lived in his own world, blissfully unaware of anything not relevant to his own prestige and glory. And more often than not, anything relating to his younger 'brother' had not fallen under that category. Loki was the tagalong, the smaller, frailer brother who relied on magic and trickery—the _unmanly_ arts; none of which enhanced an elder brother's reputation.

No, Thor had been in danger of his own greatness being tarnished by Loki; at least until Asgard decided it was better to _pity _Thor for being fated to bear such a brother than revile him for it.

Loki seethed at the memory; yes, Thor's burden, that's how all of Asgard had seen him.

"We all did," Thor said, cutting into his thoughts, "our father-"

That did it. Loki broke away with a fierce snarl. "_Your_ father," he snapped, and walked away, refusing to look at the "golden prince" another moment. Too many wounds ripped open by those two words: our father. Lancing pain rubbed itself like salt into those wounds. He had to distract himself; he could feel the memories all reaching up out of the darkest recesses of him mind to claim him again, like talons. "He did tell my true parentage, did he not?" Loki felt a rush of relief; his tone sounded dead of emotion and almost conversational. He tried to bury himself in nothingness; a safe void where memory and emotion could not reach him.

Could not hurt him.

Thor gestured, pleading silently for Loki to listen. "We were raised together, we played together, we fought together-"

That last part Loki agreed with; they had fought, often- with _each other_.

"Do you remember none of that?" Thor's tone was raw, desperate. Loki almost was panged with guilt for it.

Almost.

But that pang opened up other feelings; other memories. His safe haven was fractured. He spun around, his teeth bared in fury.

"I remember a shadow," he began, his voice deceptively soft….

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Pietro couldn't believe his ears. "What do you mean, she's not here!"

Xavier looked at him with pity of all things. "She left a few moments before you arrived."

"But she must have known I was coming!"

Xavier nodded, lifting a hand soothingly. "Pietro, she did," his tone begged Quicksilver to calm down. Pietro took a breath, centering himself. This wasn't the Professor's fault; Wanda must have had a reason for going, for not waiting for him.

"Why did she come here?"

Another pitying look. "I'm afraid I cannot tell you that. She swore me to secrecy."

Pietro felt like he'd been kicked. "But…but she's never kept secrets from me before." He reeled a moment, trying to understand why she suddenly didn't seem to trust him.

"It's not a matter of trust, Pietro," Xavier gently said, "it's actually for your safety. Believe me, the fewer who know of this, the better. She protecting you, and not only you but this entire world as well. If this secret became known, we'd have a war on our hands beyond what you can imagine."

Pietro thought of the last few days. "I actually think I can imagine. Did she say where she was going?"

Xavier shook his head, the first rays of dawn playing on his face. "I'm afraid not. But, my guess would be, she's going after Loki."

Pietro started.

"I sensed him via Cerebro as he appeared in Germany; it was shortly after that Wanda left. She must have gone to face him."

Pietro nodded. "Thank you, Professor." And he zipped out the double front doors a second later. A second after that he was aboard the Hummingbird again, punching in the codes for takeoff.

He opened the comm to the Hellicarrier. "Get me Fury."

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"Listen well, brother-"

Wham.

Loki resisted a smirk, but couldn't help but say, "I'm listening." _Which is something you never_ _did, my dear not-brother! _

Thor connected hard with the ground, his massive body flinging debris in all directions. This was not going well. He had been so certain he would come, reason with his brother, persuade him to give up his toxic plans for this realm and they would go home.

Why, why, did Loki persist in always being so _difficult_!?

He rose and saw the metal man land nearby. His golden face lifted to reveal another, this one of flesh. Ah, so it is perhaps merely flying armor then, not an actual metal skin.

Thor resolved to hold his temper; his days of the belligerent warrior were past. "Do not touch me again."

The metal man though, apparently, was flippant. "Then don't take my stuff."

Thor forced a centering breath. This man did not know his brother; Loki could easily play with one who exuded so much arrogance; Thor had seen if often enough in Court. "You have no idea what you're dealing with."

"Uhhhh, Shakespeare in the Park?" _What did that mean?_ Thor thought. "Doth mother know," the metal man added, with a dramatic gesture, "you weareth her drapes?"

Well, whatever his meaning, it was patronizing, Thor caught that much. He held his anger in check; but it rose, like a threatening wave inside him. This man _dared_ mock a prince of Asgard?! And when he had come to lend aid and protection? Thor ground his teeth.

"Loki will face Asgardian justice," he promised firmly-

"He gives up the cube he's all yours," the metal man said dismissively, "until then," the face plate clanked back down, "stay out of the way." And he turned.

Thor had had enough. This man was either too conceited or too foolish to understand the danger his realm was in; demanding the return of the Tesseract to them was proof enough. The very thing that was not only the rightful property of Asgard, but what had drawn Loki and his allies to Midgard to begin with!

"Tourist," he heard the mortal mutter as he walked away.

He had to stop this mortal and his cohorts before they made matters even worse. Talking hadn't worked- that had always been Loki's expertise anyways- so Thor resorted to his area of 'expertise.'

He flung Mjolnir at the metal man.

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Loki settled onto the rock to watch the show. It was so predictable; entertaining to be sure, but still predictable, Loki reflected as he watched Asgard's apparently not-so-reformed-heir call down lightning to blast the insolent mortal who had 'dared' to "mouth off" (as the mortals said), to him. Mortals were capricious and so easily controlled by their emotions; and Thor was no different. Manipulate their emotions, and you manipulate them.

Loki leaned back, enjoying the first-fruits of his success as the man of iron lunged at Thor and sent him careening into a mountainside. He shook his head; even with these unknown players now involved in Loki's game, these 'mutants,' it would still prove easy to seize their world. They were so…emotional-and therefore sentimental.

Sentiment: the ultimate weakness.

A picture of Sigyn stabbed into his thoughts. He wanted to push it away, but couldn't. The spectacle below was suddenly forgotten.

_Sigyn. I'm sorry. I know not what came over me, to be awestruck by a mortal. Forgive me; I was weak._

But he couldn't deny it; the mortal woman…or whatever she was, had called to him somehow. She recognized him, though he had no memory of her. Where had she seen him? And why did she have such a…_resonance_ to her that he responded to without thinking? Without prompting? He was never one to be overpowered by loveliness; Court had boasted of many beautiful women; and their charms had not affected him. Sigyn captured and even now held his heart for far more than her beauty, however unique and rare her gorgeousness had been.

His insides wrenched. So what had it been then? That…_something_ that had struck him so?

Loki didn't notice when the man out of time arrived and separated the two other men. What jarred him back to reality was when he heard Thor yell: "You want me to put the hammer down!?" His attention shot to his bro-…to _Odinson_, just as he jumped at the man with the shield-

Who was suddenly gone in a blur of movement?

Loki blinked. He didn't know the man out of time could do that. But then he saw the soldier standing a few feet away from where Thor thunderously landed.

And another man was standing beside him; a man Loki did not recall Barton telling him about. His ears perked as he heard conversation.

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"Ok," Pietro said harshly, "I'm sure you all were having a great time-"

Stark snorted-

"But the party is now over."

"I am only here-"

"I know why you're here, Prince Thor-" Pietro began.

Thor blinked. "You know who I am?"

"Yes, you were described for me a few times, and you exactly fit that description."

Loki's eyes narrowed. Described? By whom?

And the mystery man's tone was dry.

Ergo, said descriptions had _not_ been flattering. Interesting….

Who would describe Thor in an uncomplimentary way? All were _captivated_ by him.

"But this isn't going to solve anything." Pietro let out a long breath. "If you're really here to help- then help. Work with us. Taking Loki and trying to talk him into giving you the Tesseract isn't going to work."

Thor shook his head. "You cannot be certain of that. Loki is my brother."

"He's also a magician," Pietro retorted, "and magicians are way too stubborn to just capitulate like that. It's not in their nature."

Loki started at that, and saw Thor jolt in shock. "How…how could you know such things? Your world has no magic."

"My sister is a magician."

"That's not possible."

Pietro snickered. "With my sister, just about anything is possible."

Loki felt his breath stick in his throat. _Her_: the mysterious woman. She must be the sister of this very same mortal. His bright eyes narrowed as he took in the tall man, whose platinum hair shone brilliantly against the silvery moonlight. He couldn't help but notice too how Thor kept staring at the lightning bolt emblazoned across the man's front and patterned into his belt as well. So…that was why Thor was listening to him: they both had 'magical siblings,' at least Thor thought so, and they both used the lightning bolt as their symbol. And of course this man with his build and blonde hair would blend perfectly into Asgard.

Loki felt a stab of angst.

At length, Thor nodded ascent. He would work with them.

There was a rush of wind, and suddenly the man with the super speed was at Loki's side. Loki looked up and scrutinized him with narrowed eyes.

Blue-gray eyes; of course this man had to be big, blonde with blue-ish eyes. Such was Loki's miserable luck. He repressed a sigh.

Pietro kept his face neutral. "Look, if I ask you nicely to just come along with us; will you? I think between you and Thor, I've had enough for one day. And from what I've been told, _you're_ supposed to be the reasonable one."

Loki blinked at that. So, whoever described Thor to him also included Loki in the repertoire.

Loki offered a small smile. This was going to be more interesting than he first thought. "Well, I'd hate to disprove your information."

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**A/N: **That's it for now. I had an allergic reaction to some Chinese takeout today and my face puffed up and broke out in a rash. Ugh…it never ends. So, yeah, I'm not going to class tomorrow. I foresee homework instead and more of this if I get more time! Take care. Don't forget to leave your review!


	10. Chapter 9: Blood Magicians

**A/N:** Ok, so things continue to heat up! The pieces are coming together! Onward we go! And OMG; I've got 334 views so far?! That is AWESOME! Thx all for reading!

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_Children of the Tesseract: Ch. 9- Blood Magicians_

The ride to the mortals' floating fortress was uneventful; which Loki didn't mind. He had much to think on. His not-brother sat across from him as they flew through the velvet night, his expression grim and thoughtful. The two mortals, Stark and Rogers, chatted quietly in a corner near the assassin-pilot, but the relative silence allowed Loki to mull over things.

The other mortal, the lightning-fast man, had insisted on flying separately to their base in his own aircraft; he seemed particularily fond of it. Loki could understand that; as a magician, he had his favorite tools and books; it only stood to reason a pilot would have a favored sky-craft.

But it was the mutant's sister who intrigued him more. The mortal magician; was she truly as the mutant had claimed- true, _blood_ magician? It was supposedly impossible; this world, deficient by its own nature, was incapable of producing a true magician for it possessed no inherent magic; magic necessary to bequeath to destined magicians. The only other means was for a mortal, such as Midgard's 'Sorcerer Supreme,' the one called Strange to acquire magic by siphoning it from mystical relics. But he was not a true blood magician.

But the mortal with the white hair and lightning bolt on his uniform seemed to imply his sister was a blood magician. He likened her to Loki; claiming they had a similar 'nature.' Was that what he meant? That blood magic bred a certain disposition, one Loki shared with this mortal's kin-at least from the mortal's perception? That was what he had seemed to indicate.

Loki sighed and examined his hands; still very thin, still sickly pale. He suddenly couldn't blame Stark for his disbelief that Loki was a 'super-villain.' In the mortal's boots, Loki probably would have shared his skepticism.

"We're approaching base," the red-haired assassin said.

Loki glanced towards the viewport, where a massive, metal citadel came looming into view. It was a fearsome construct to behold, Loki silently admitted- though he had seen worse…much worse.

He shook the thought away. Thor looked at him with concern, but Loki ignored him.

Loki heard the assassin get 'clearance codes' to land, and felt the jarring of the craft as it settled into the large hanger. Loki was still as they unstrapped him and led him to the craft's lowering ramp.

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Pietro landed the sleek and lethal looking _Hummingbird_ beside the Quinjet and watched them unload 'the prisoner.' Pietro didn't like it; Loki wasn't acting like a prisoner, more like a sightseer. He offered no trouble as they disembarked from the craft and he was handed over to the awaiting guards. The black-clad, helmeted men herded him off with a word. Pietro followed the heavily armed guards; the others could wait. Something was up; he could feel it in the air.

"Quicksilver," Rogers called. Pietro glanced back at him.

"Aren't coming with us for debriefing?" Rogers acted as if Pietro should consider the answer obvious. He was a nice guy, Pietro reflected, but sometimes protocol had to be put aside.

Especially where _magicians_ were concerned- that Pietro knew from experience.

"I will later," Pietro said eventually, and then walked away-at normal speed- before anyone could object.

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Pietro entered the detention area just as Fury was introducing Loki to his new 'accommodations.'

"You get how that works?" Fury yelled over the roaring wind.

Pietro caught Loki's amused look and easy stance. Yep, sightseer; this was exactly how Wanda behaved before dropping the proverbial anvil on someone's head.

"Ant," Fury bluntly said, gesturing to Loki, "boot." He leveled both hands at the control board.

Loki only chuckled-darkly. Pietro thought of the endless times Wanda played mind games with her quarry only to have them realize too late they had been led into a trap-many of which they didn't survive when she was especially angry. And from what he understood, Loki had _a lot_ to be angry over.

A chill crept over him.

"It's an impressive cage," Loki began, spreading his hands, "not built I think, for me."

_He catches onto to the little details quick_, Pietro noted. That wasn't good. Unsurprising, but still not good.

"Built for something much _stronger_ than you," Fury replied, clearly opting for intimidation.

Pietro knew it was futile. He was validated with Loki's wide smile. "Oh I've heard," he drawled, almost sounding bored- and a bored magician was _never_ a good thing, Pietro reflected, "a mindless beast, makes play he's still a man."

There was something in his voice when Loki said that, something Pietro couldn't quite place his finger on…but it unnerved him, whatever it was.

It almost sounded…portentous.

Pietro's brow furrowed at that. Neither Loki nor Fury had noticed him yet.

Loki's voice went from bored to airy and patronizing. "How desperate are you? You call on such lost creatures to defend you."

_Don't answer that_, Pietro instinctively thought. _Otherwise you admit you _are_ desperate. _

Fury didn't see the sand-trap though. "How desperate am I?" Fury closed the distance between him and the pale magician.

Pietro didn't listen so much to what Fury said next as he watched Loki's face. The alabaster-skinned man put on the façade amused indifference, but it was far from the truth.

The way his sharp green eyes, like glass, absorbed every word of the Director's, every twitch of his body, every layer of his tone of voice; no Loki wasn't being entertained-

He was being _educated_. He was learning. He was keeping the Director going because the more Fury talked, the more Loki learned about him.

Pietro had to stop this.

He zipped in front of Fury seeming to appear out of thin air.

Fury jumped back, his sole eye going wide with annoyance. "Do you _have_ to do that!?"

"I need to talk to you, Director." Pietro's voice flat, but urgent.

Fury looked at him for a moment before seeing something in the younger man's face that made him say, "All right." He looked back to Loki. "Let me know if real power wants a magazine or something."

Loki smiled, again looking amused. Pietro made a point of not looking directly at the Asgardian as they left. He didn't want Loki to read his expressions. He made a point of keeping his walk casual. But he could feel Loki's cold eyes dissecting him as he and Fury left the detention center.

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"Where are the others?" Pietro asked once the detention area's door sealed shut behind them.

"This way," Fury said without preamble.

"He really grows on ya," Pietro heard Banner say as they rounded a corner and Pietro found himself in a large area overlooking the control center below. Massive windows on the far wall before him offered a breathtaking sight of bright azure skies obscured by only a vague white haze of clouds. Sunlight splashed on the room he and Fury entered as well as the control bridge below. He caught sight of Hill overseeing activities below, but no Coulson to be found.

He heard Thor talking and averted his attention back to them.

"He has an army, called the Chitauri-" Pietro felt his stomach fall; Wanda had spoken of them once, long ago. One of her tutors, Morgana had given Wanda a tome that told of them. Not much was to be known, the book had admitted, but the little it recorded was enough. They were a bloodthirsty, merciless race that lived solely to destroy worlds. But aside from conquest, they were experts of something else, Pietro recalled.

"They're not of Asgard or any realm known," Thor went on, "They will win him the Earth, in exchange I imagine for the Tesseract."

Pietro quietly zipped from the room; no one noticed. He had to talk to Loki.

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Loki sensed the young mutant enter, though to his credit, he did it soundlessly.

"Were you given permission to enter here, mortal?"

"No," was all the answer the boy gave as he stepped out of a dark corner, his hair very stark against the shadows. His eyes, cursed blue-tinged grey they were, were very grave for a boy. Loki fleetingly wondered what had happened to force the mortal to grow up so quickly.

_Apparently the boy did more than _move_ rapidly_, Loki thought, _the irony of it_. He almost pitied the mortal, recollecting his own need to mature preemptively-almost.

"And what brings you to my modest abode?" Loki asked his voice silken and far too calm.

Pietro moved to Loki's left, where a line of workstations and monitors consumed the wall and adjoining space. He found a blank screen near Loki's cell and large enough for the magician to see easily; looking placidly at Loki he programed it and switched it on.

Instantly the room where the Avengers were briefing filled the screen.

Loki's face emptied of expression. _He hadn't expected this_, Pietro thought, _good_.

Now Pietro just had to wait. If what he suspected was true, Loki would betray a sign of it, eventually- he hoped.

He watched Loki, as immortal's green eyes were fixed to the monitor. He had plenty to watch.

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"I want to know why he let us take him," Pietro heard Rogers say, "he's not leading an army from here."

Loki's face remained blank.

Banner chimed in, brushing Loki aside with a gesture. "I don't think we should be focusing on Loki; that guy's brain is a bag full of cats, you can smell crazy on him."

For a second, Pietro saw something flick in Loki's eyes; it was miniscule, but something like pain, or anger, or…vulnerability? It was there and gone; but Pietro caught it.

But his eyes remained green.

"Have care how you speak," Thor growled, his voice almost making Pietro jump it was so hard and menacing, "Loki is beyond reason but he is of Asgard"-Pietro could have sworn he saw relief flit across Loki's face, and disbelief…that Thor was standing up for him? "-and he is my brother."

Loki's eyes hardened…and _blued_. Pietro felt his stomach twist. He had been right.

It wasn't possible, but Loki's face became even blanker then; like he had shut down, taken a leave of absence from his own body. A chill crept over Pietro; he suddenly felt like he and Loki weren't alone in the room. There was something about those eyes, something…_possessed_.

Fear swelled in Quicksilver. He wanted to run; but he daren't move.

"He killed 80 people in two days." That was the Widow; her voice flat and in a way challenging.

Pietro didn't see Thor teeter on his feet. "He's…adopted," he heard the Asgardian say weakly.

Life returned to Loki's eyes then. The blue left, but they looked pained somehow. Why? Because of what Thor said? Pietro had a feeling that wasn't fully it.

"And what's wrong with that!?" a harsh, _and familiar_ voice accused from the monitor. Pietro swung around to face the screen. It couldn't be! She was here!? Pietro zipped from the room- only to ram face first into someone.

"Oomph!"

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**A/N: **Yes, I'm leaving it here for now. But who ELSE could it be that made Pietro react like that, right? I hope you're all liking how I integrate the movie into this. I hope it makes sense so far. Up to now I'm getting positive feedback, but if you guys could leave some DETAILED reviews of what you do/don't like, I'd appreciate a little more to work with. Right now I'm just writing this for fun and according to my own sensibilities, which at the end of the day you're supposed to do as a writer, but getting an inkling of what you guys like would help all the same. Anyways, have an awesome week and thanks again for reading.


	11. Chapter 10: Scarlet Witch

**A/N: **OMG! Over 640 views! This is epic! And now ppl from Peru are viewing also! Hey there Central America! Glad you came! Also a holler out to my Pilipino readers and you guys over in Japan! Thanks for coming! And of course my fellow US-ers and you folks over in Europe. Hope ya'll who celebrate Thanksgiving had a good time. And Merry Christmas in advance. ***

I'm gonna answer a couple questions quick here: MarvelFanGirl: SOOO glad you're enjoying! I am actually playing around a little with Morgana as a character in this story; I'm detaching her a bit from the MarvelVerse for the sake of the plot.

Also, I'm glad the introduction of other Marvel characters into this story is so far receiving positive response. More characters are to come; I don't mind dropping that, including OC's! Hope you continue to like!

Anyways, y'all know the drill: read, enjoy, **review**…repeat!

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_Children of the Tesseract: Ch. 10: The Scarlet Witch_

"What's wrong with that?" a voice demanded from the screen Loki was watching.

From behind the table where the mortal Fury stood, in a darkened corridor a tall figure stood, hooded by the shadows.

Heels clicked as the slender figure drew near them, her steps slow and deliberate. An ankle-length cape swished behind the figure as she stepped into the light offered from the large windows.

It was her-the mysterious woman from Stuttgart.

Loki examined her carefully now that he could do so in sufficient light. She was dressed in no longer a gown but some sort of uniform. It was also ruby red- her heeled boots ascended past her mid-thigh; they must be enchanted, surely such things could not be comfortable otherwise. They were stylishly shaped and designed, as was the long, full cape that swept open from her left shoulder where an ornate golden brooch held it in place and covered her right arm almost fully but left her other arm bare. Matching her long boots were equally long gloves that fell just short of her elegant shoulders.

What mystified Loki was the strange garment that covered her torso. It appeared to be some sort of corset pinstriped with princess seams that covered her where a mortal woman's bathing suit would. Underneath, her skin was covered by a translucent magenta cloth body-suit. It was a bizarre outfit, Loki had never seen anything like it; but she looked strangely regal and impressive wearing it. Especially with the mystifying sort of 'crown' adorning her head: a crimson tiara of sorts, shaped like an "M" and framing her brow and high-set cheekbones.

Loki was jarred out of his reverie by her fool blonde brother yelling joyously and zipping for the doorway only to collide into two figures that were just coming in.

"Oomph!"

_Yes, fool blonde brother; oh, how familiar it is,_ Loki thought, rolling his eyes.

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Wanda stepped into the light, and watched the 'Avengers,' all turn and look at her with surprised, then wary eyes. Well, Stark hadn't yet arrived; he was probably chasing some female SHIELD agent around, Wanda mused.

Hopefully the woman would taze him-repeatedly.

"Who are you?" a tall, bald man barked-Fury; Wanda had read his file.

Around her, she heard the clicking of guns being cocked and aimed at her as agents rushed up to the meeting area and surrounded her, their boots pounding the metal stairs.

She met Fury's glower, her expression unimpressed and didn't bother to glance at the agents as Fury waved at them to lower their weapons. Her gaze fixed on Thor. Her ire was still high.

"You didn't answer me, Prince Thor," she pointed out, watching everyone tense at her low, cold voice. "What's _wrong_ with being adopted?"

Thor shifted nervously, unsure at this new Midgardian. "I never said-"

Wanda's eyes narrowed. "Oh, but you did; you defended your brother against Dr. Banner- as you ought- until Agent Romanoff informed you of his 'death toll,' then you immediately tried to excuse his actions by saying he's _adopted_." She let the comment hang.

Widow watched quietly; her eyes not missing a jot, Wanda noted. Banner remained perfectly still, obviously feeling the tension. Rogers was guarded but not tense…and Fury was having none of it.

He took a step closer to Wanda. "I asked you…_who you are_." The threat was obvious in his voice.

Widow's eyes narrowed- in recognition. "She's the Scarlet Witch," she said emotionlessly, "the unknown from Stuttgart."

Fury's one eye blinked. The tension immediately eased from the room- except between Wanda and Thor.

"You're the magician of Midgard?" Thor asked, stepping forward, his curiosity piqued. Midgard, his parents, and later teachers had said that Midgard had no magic; it was a magic void—a strange anomaly, but here was proof he had been told wrong.

"You still haven't answered me," Wanda snapped, her eyes blazing.

"I did not intend any offense," Thor said sheepishly, drawing closer. But then he was yanked off the ground by shimmering ruby-fire hands.

Wanda ignored the gasps and Fury demanding that she release him; Thor's mouth had caused more than enough trouble. He had to understand-_finally_-what his idle words had ignited; again. Out of her peripherals, she caught the Widow mock gasp-it was doubtful anything ever surprised her-and used it as an excuse to stand up.

"_I _am adopted," Wanda ground out, her eyes locked on Asgard's bigmouth prince even as she watched the Widow sneak like a silent shadow close enough to try and tackle her. She almost felt bad for what was about to happen-almost. "And I want you to know, there is _nothing_ wrong with that."

Thor struggled futilely against the iridescent bonds. "I…apologize," he garbled out against grunts and growls of effort, "…you misunderstood-"

"No, _you_ need to understand," Wanda retorted, and then was interrupted as Widow leapt at her, trying to pin her by the waist…only to fly right through her body! The assassin landed with a "whump" against the hard floor, but salvaged the move in a neat barrel roll. Wanda turned carelessly to her.

"Never lunge at a magician," she said, voice deadpan, "it never ends well." She flicked her wrist, and unseen hands gently lifted the Russian, setting her easily back on her feet. Widow's face was a flawless, flat mask. She only gave a nod, either of understanding or thanks for the help up; or both, but otherwise remained silent.

"Enough," Fury barked, "put Thor down and stop this. We have a looming war and don't need more contention in the team. I have Stark for that anyways-"

"Did someone say my name?" a cocky voice came from behind Wanda. "Ohhh, look who it is; our mystery woman…and in a new outfit too."

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"Oomph!" Pietro sucked air as he hit the floor and sprawled out on the tiles.

"Dude, seriously? Speedy Gonzales needin' Lasik?"

Pietro looked up to see the two figures he ran into staring down at him with very half-hearted attempts at sympathy.

"I think Wanda hexed him once too often as a kid."

"I think he ran into too many walls as a kid," the other put in.

"Well, it sure was never _girls_," added the first, snickering.

"It's so nice to see you guys too," Pietro dryly told them, rising and cracking his back.

The two arrivals were around his age; the one tall and lanky with light bronze skin and chocolate brown, curly hair that was cut very short. The other, tan with a lean runner's build and shoulder length sandy hair and large chestnut eyes: Hacker and Prodigy, the world's greatest snarkers who part time were world-reknowned IT experts and overall computer super-geeks extraordinaire.

Mostly they did snarking though; they had said something once about priorities and making their own working hours, thank you very much.

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Loki kept his attention divided between the scarlet-clad woman tearing into his not-brother—it was quite the scene! No one ever stood up to or criticized the _perfect prince_ of Asgard; All-Father's pride and joy. But, Loki had reluctantly kept part of his attention on the other's blonde brother as he spoke to these two newcomers. More unknowns, how lovely; especially when the sandy haired one (yet another blonde problem to deal with…_joy_), casually sauntered up to him and looked him over before blandly asking, "So, which brother are you: the idiot brother or the smart brother?"

The one called Pietro rolled his eyes. "Prod," he drawled out.

The other found the screen showing the Midgard witch levitating Thor and getting almost-tackled by the assassin. He chuckled. "I'd assume he's the smart brother," another laugh, and he turned to Loki with amusement gleaming his dark eyes; "you don't mind being an only child, do you?"

Pietro groaned and zipped from the room.

Loki blinked at that. Did these two _children_ really believe some mortal could kill an Aesir? Even with magic? No…and besides, Loki could _never_ be that lucky. He simply looked down his nose at them and turned away. He could still watch the happenings in his mind's eye. Magic knew neither walls nor doors. And he certainly didn't want to miss any of the show; even if Thor didn't wind up dead, so what? His precious pride would be forever bruised by a mortal-a woman no less-but both together? Loki licked his lips. It was delicious, the humiliation of it.

It was passed overdue for him to watch _someone else_ be humiliated, for a change. And there was no one better than Thor, dear not-brother.

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"Nice outfit," Stark said by way of greeting, before whispering to Coulson, who had entered with him, "so, pick a weekend, I'll fly you out there-" but Coulson politely smiled and waved the conversation off, fixing his amiable face but very intent eyes onto Wanda.

"Seriously, I need to get Pepper an outfit like this, she would look soooo hot-"

"Stark," Fury said sharply.

Stark, who only shrugged indifferently and kept up his air of super-annoying I-don't-give-a-sh**-ness, said, "What? It's a great outfit, and it's on a very hot woman, can't I-"

Thor was instantly forgotten as a red haze grabbed Stark and lifted him into the air—by the ankles.

"No, you can't," Wanda said in a menacingly low voice, coming up to him so that their noses almost touched. "And while you can't tell 'Pepper' for me where I get my wardrobe, you _can_ express to her my sympathies for being your girlfriend. If she ever wants to consider mental help, I'd be glad to recommend an expert I know."

Stark's eyes widened, almost comically.

Pietro chose that next moment to appear almost out of thin air, a gust of breeze following him.

"Pietro!" Wanda exclaimed, running to him and leaping into his arms. Unfortunately, she 'forgot' about Thor and Tony, who both fell-Tony on his head- with twin yells of pain.

Widow's face was still professionally blank, except for the glittering of her eyes as she looked down at a loudly protesting Stark; Banner looked pale and tense. Rogers seemed to be having second thoughts about coming and Fury? Well, he planted his hands on his sides and fixed his sole eye on the ceiling. He took a deep, steadying breath and shook his head.

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**A/N: ** Yes, it's short I know, but I wanted to give you guys something after waiting so long; I felt bad about that. Anyways, I'm gonna try and get more uploaded soon but please enjoy this in the meantime. I hope you like what I do w/ Prodigy and Hacker; I have limited experience with them as characters anyways so am taking this as an opportunity to develop them to fit this story. Anyways, PLZ PLZ review and thanks for reading! **I don't own Marvel, but perhaps someday I will! LOL.


	12. Chapter 11: Brother & Sister

**A/N: **Ok, so amend that: 681 views! Cool! You guys are SO epic for reading this; I really love your support for this story. I hope you continue to enjoy reading; I haven't received any real negative feedback, which I take as a good sign; please be detailed in your reviews though…it'd be greatly appreciated! Well, w/o further ado, onward! Now that Loki and Wanda are BOTH on the Hellicarrier…well, you'll see….

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_Children of the Tesseract: Ch. 11- Brother and Sister_

As Stark and Thor got to their feet, Pietro took the opportunity to whisk Wanda from the meeting room as everyone else focused on the two men. Stark was yelling something about 'lawsuit' and 'magical assault and battery' as Pietro hurried Wanda away.

"His name should be Tony Snark," Wanda muttered under her breath as they found a deserted corridor.

The soft rumble of engines told Pietro they were near one of the giant turbines that kept this massive station airborne.

"You're not one to talk," he softly rebuked as they came to a halt. Wanda looked around. Everything was done in smooth curves of a satiny metal-all metal…like their father's palace.

A chill gnawed through Wand like gangrene as memories rushed at her: being shaped and molded by her father, like metal, into something she wasn't; being made cold, apathetic towards her brother…ruthless in battle, uncaring about casualties who weren't loved ones-

_We have to eliminate the threat, fast and permanently. _

_You sound just like your father._

_It's called survival, Kurt._

She pushed the memories away and met Pietro's silver-blue eyes. It was eerie; really, that the best man and the worst man she knew both shared the same face; granted one was younger, one older…but _the same_ nonetheless.

"I missed you," Pietro said, his expression showing he had caught her grim reverie. Wanda sighed and looked away. She was still entwined in his arms; the protective older brother to the end. Her one hand rested on his shoulder. She gave it a squeeze.

"And I you." Her tone said what the words did not_: I'm sorry_.

"Two years, Wanda." It was a question.

Wanda nodded glumly, guilt rising in her- again. Even now, she was hurting Pietro; even when she strove so hard to not wound him…she did anyways. _How proud Father would be_.

"It couldn't be helped," she looked toward one of the glass walls that overlooked a large hanger, ignoring her bleak tone. "So much happened, Pietro…I…I don't even know if I can explain it all." She shook her head, floundering over where to start.

"You're tired."

Another nod. "Yes," she rubbed her temples; Pietro still was holding her, he probably wouldn't let go until she told him to. She wouldn't. She had been so…incomplete without her twin, the other half of her—more often the better half too- it felt like a gaping wound inside her had been closed, now that they were reunited again.

Pietro either caught her unease, or had a twin's sense of some kind; he drew her in and embraced her tightly. Wanda wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing against him. It was so refreshing, like being able to breathe again after a long time underwater. He smelled like shower gel and potato chips; she chuckled at the familiarity of it all. She felt whole, safe and comfortable. She eagerly drank it in after two years of danger, pain…danger.

Despair.

Loneliness.

Torment.

Wanda shook the thoughts away, soaking in Pietro's warmth and strength.

Pietro's eyes narrowed as he held his little sister. Yes, she was only about 12 minutes his junior, but the amount of time was irrelevant. She was his _little sister_. Period. Stop. End of discussion.

And something felt terribly…off…about her. Before, she had been everything that was strong and impenetrable; like the very base they stood in. She was a mountain that could not be moved, a shield that could not be breached, and a sword that could not be dulled. When the battle was all but lost, when the odds were absolutely not in their favor and disaster was grinning down at them and there was _no way_ anything could save them, Wanda would smirk in death's face, flick her wrist and bam!

Victory was theirs.

Always.

But now? Wanda wasn't broken; Pietro could feel that. She wasn't afraid, she wasn't defeated. Her eyes though, were _haunted_ when they had met his. Her body trembled at memories of who knew what. The metal fortress was _affecting_ her; reminding her of their father and how he had tried once to brainwash her into becoming his cold-blooded general and Heiress. He had failed of course; Wanda had discovered the truth of Magneto's dream when their father had made it clear she had to choose either him or Pietro. Wanda had escaped with Pietro afterwards, abandoning their father and her title as Crown Princess of Genosha-though it had broken Lorna's heart for a long time. Pietro sighed; it had taken a lot to convince Lorna they had not rejected her as well as Magneto; she still saw their father as a revolutionary; a heroic warrior defending helpless mutants against a violent and hateful humanity. Magneto never allowed her to see the dark side of his dream, nor the heartless lengths he would call upon to see his goals through. She only saw the beauty of Genosha, the utopic world their father showed her; though, Pietro was aware Lorna was beginning to uncover many of the realities Magneto labored so hard to conceal from her.

"It's not about father," Wanda murmured at length.

Pietro rested his chin against the crown of her head. Her chin was dipped down so he didn't bump the wimple embracing her face. "Then what? What happened to you out there?"

Wanda's body moved under his gloved hands as she sighed, low and deep; to steady and re-center herself. "Let's find a place to sit down."

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Stark had finally shut up about finding Dr. Strange and bribing him to recommend the best mystical lawyers money could buy to sic on Wanda-

"Dr. Strange is a magician too, Tony, he doesn't care about money."

"Well, that settles it, all magicians are crazy. I need to move to a planet without magic."

"This realm, Man of Iron, is the only in existence that is supposedly bereft of magic."

"Not what I wanted to hear, Thor." An exasperated sigh. "Forget a battle-suit. I'm making a cryo-suit to put me in a permanent sleep where I dream only of babes who don't have magic." A pause. "Well, not _that kind_ of magic anyways."

Rogers sent his gaze to the ceiling. Fury, unfortunately, had left a second after the twins when an aide came rushing in and whispered something to him about locating an energy anomaly nearby. Fury told him he was "in charge of the 'team,'" until he returned.

Rogers scanned the room. What team? Banner was fidgeting with his hands, clearly uncertain about what to do now; Stark continued to rant about magic and suits and women, occasionally mentioning alcohol; Thor stood like a statue in one corner, brooding no doubt. Widow seemed to be the only one expecting something professional and worthwhile to happen. Her emerald gaze swept the room in disapproval, finally resting on his.

She eyed him questioningly.

He took the cue. "Guys," he said.

Banner looked at him. Stark and Thor remained in their own worlds.

"_Stark. Thor_."

Still nothing.

Rogers picked up his shield and slammed it down on the table.

The crash made both men jump. Even Banner started a little. Widow didn't react, except the tiny smirk on her lips.

"Ah!" Stark yelled; he riveted his attention to the Captain. "Cap! God's sake; freaking me out is the voodoo girl's job!"

"Then pay attention Stark." Rogers rose, and came around the table. "We need a plan," he said, repeating his words to Iron Man in the quinjet, "and this time, we're gonna _actually make_ one. So…what do we know?"

Banner let out a musing breath. "We know the materials they need for the portal; we also know they have all of them aside from an energy source powerful enough to jump-start the reactor process."

Stark cut in with an expose of possible places and means Selvig could utilize to make the 'jump-start' happen. Steve felt his mind fuzz over at all the terminology being flung casually around the room. Banner and Stark got into a little side-tracking of where and how Selvig could overcome the various obstacles he would face in creating a portal that could remain open long periods of time without detonating as before. Rogers kept himself mentally on task, even as Stark wandered over to a work station of various touch screens and monitors, pushing buttons with impunity and acting as if he owned the place.

Well, most places he found himself in at any given time he probably did own in one fashion or another, Steve admitted to himself.

He saw Hill quietly come in and stand to one side, available to assist but not intruding. Top quality agent, her. Well, aside from Romanoff; that woman dominated a league all her own.

"How does Fury even look at these?" Stark asked suddenly, holding a hand over one eye for some reason…oh, right, Steve realized. He shook his head. Did Stark even know how old he was?

He probably considered himself too rich to have to care about things like acting his age.

Hill though didn't seem even slightly ruffled about it. "He turns," she said matter of factly.

"Sounds exhausting," Stark quipped in reply. Only Widow caught the little device he latched onto one of the consoles. She casually looked away.

"OK, so I want everyone's input on what the best course of action is to take now," Rogers directed.

"Well, until we can find the Tesseract," Banner answered, waving a pen, "aside from monitoring, and continuing to try and find Agent Barton," he glanced apologetically at Natasha, who didn't react, "all we can do really is wait."

"Hmmm, I'm not sure if I can agree with that," a smooth feminine voice said from the dark corridor.

"Oh, God help us," Stark blurted out, "now who's coming? Godzilla? King Kong? Man-Bear-Pig?"

A giant fireball engulfed the corridor, everyone made to jump back until all realized…the fire gave off no heat.

The group exchanged confused glances.

The fire roared and swelled, then faded, leaving a group of silhouettes behind. They all stepped forward.

The Avengers gaped, and Thor wore a bewildered gaze as a group of people in various uniforms strode out of the shadows.

"There is so much more we can do," Emma Frost, the voice from before said, grinning confidently in her trademark white uniform of white corset, cape, long gloves and thigh length boots.

Tony cringed at the similarities to Scarlet Witch's uniform.

"Just my luck," he muttered, taking a step back, "more hot women who can kick my ass."

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**A/N: **LOL; gotta love Tony Stark. Sometimes he and Thor seem to have a contest on whose big mouth moments get them into more trouble! Hahahahahahaha. Anyways, I hope you had fun with this chapter; I tried to make it a balance of heavy and light. But…you know the drill now. Plz leave a comment or two; no flames plz! Feedback is an author's Scooby snacks! Plz don't be shy! Thanks. Till next time!


	13. Chapter 12: Encounters & Revelations

**A/N: **I'm actually really happy to see the first readers I have for Dec. is Canada and the UK. You guys in the UK have been regular readers and that means a lot to me; FYI. Canada, I don't think you've read before…so thanks for coming! New readers are always fun! Anyways, again, thanks to all for reading; special thanks to those of you who have fed the author "Scooby snacks," aka reviews. Anyhow; enjoy, as always. And, yep, Marvel still isn't mine…sorry! LOL.

I do want to add that I am incorporating some of the storyline from "Wolverine and the X-Men," but it isn't a perfect/full blending. I've changed some nuances for the story, but there will be parts where I borrow from that for the sake of backstory. The M'kron crystal I of course took from the 90's cartoon. YouTube the episodes for reference if needed

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_Children of the Tesseract: Ch. 12- Encounters and Revelations_

Steve Rogers took a step forward as the fire dissipated and the newcomers it brought ventured forward. Thor followed suit, trailing behind. He held Mjolnir loosely, tested its weight. Widow, Banner and Stark remained where they were; Widow fingered her gun.

Emma Frost had emerged first; her body swaying casually in her white uniform with floor-length cape, but right behind her was a tall woman with flowing red hair that reached the small of her back, in a black leather uniform with red trim and the most vibrant emerald eyes Rogers had ever seen—they almost looked supernatural. Hmmm….

Lastly approached five girls all no older than 15- and were apparently quintuplets, Steve noted. They were all a head shorter than the red head, with petite frames beneath floor length black robes, like the sort a monk would wear. Their shoulder-length lemon-colored hair was mostly hidden beneath drawn hoods. They were silent, but took in the room and its occupants with large turquoise eyes framed in thick lashes.

"I'm Captain Rogers," Steve began, holding out his hand, in invitation.

"Emma Frost," the blonde replied, taking his hand and then returning it after a firm but brief shake. She turned to the red-head.

"Dr. Jean Grey," the other said, "and these girls behind us are the Cuckoos: Emma's students."

Stark's eyes widened at the name; but, miraculously, he said nothing.

"Pleasure ladies," Steve went on, not missing a beat, "what brings you here?"

"To help," Emma bluntly replied, striding over to the panels. "You plan to sit here and _wait_ for something to happen." She turned back to Rogers. "What if it's a happening you don't want to transpire, Captain?"

"We didn't exactly decide-"

"We have information that might lead us in a clearer direction," Dr. Grey interrupted, cutting off any possible arguments, "but we have a lot to bring you up to speed beforehand."

Steve nodded soberly. He took a step back and waved them politely to the table. Jean took the invitation to sit; Emma didn't. She hovered on the perimeter near Jean; the Cuckoos spread out behind their teacher. Stark eyed them warily before sitting. Banner remained near Steve, Widow beside him. Thor seemed to sense something dangerous about these women, his eyes narrowed at Jean in particular. He lingered near Banner. The doctor seemed relieved at that.

Jean then dove into their narrative: Emma's communication from her liaison about an imminent threat; the Phoenix re-entering her body; but then she was forced to backtrack and tell them about the M'kron crystal. Widow didn't seem shocked by any of it; SHIELD no doubt had at least a good amount of information about that; Jean concluded. Then, she finished with Emma's arrival at their mansion and the information they had about Loki courtesy the Phoenix.

"And my liaison is here; she had contacted me a short while ago saying she has information for us," Emma offered, drawing Jean's account to a close.

"Really? Care to share which one of us your informant might be?" Stark sarcastically asked, rocking his swivel chair from side to side.

Emma leveled him a look that said he was 10 different kinds of stupid.

"The Scarlet Witch," she flatly told him.

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Wanda had told him she wanted to sit, it was her idea to find a secluded place where they could _sit_ and talk; and yet, Pietro wasn't surprised that he was sitting in the vacant lounge they found while Wanda was pacing in front of him.

Magicians and pacing; it was like the food pyramid, they needed a daily allotment, Pietro had discovered. And so he let her; years of "Wanda, sit down and relax," hadn't done much.

"Much," meaning: "nothing at all." Magicians needed to pace; it was like fish and swimming; horses and running.

_Stark and drinking_, Pietro added wryly.

"You can sit enough for both of us," Wanda had always replied. The man who moved at super speed, _could sit_ enough for two people apparently.

Wanda had never explained her logic behind that, Pietro mused, even after his years of inquiring.

After several minutes of watching her pace in practiced silence, Pietro was rewarded with his twin stopping long enough to pin her chin between a thumb and forefinger and look thoughtfully at him.

"There's a lot I have to tell you that you won't be able to share with anyone…yet," she said; but it was a question, not a statement.

"_The information I'm gonna tell you is dangerous; are you sure you want to know?" _is what it came down to.

"I'm listening," was all Pietro said. He would always listen to her; he had paid too heavy a price for the years he _didn't_. He had nearly lost her—to their father.

"After I left with Morgana, we spent the two years traveling the various Realms," Wanda began, resuming her pacing and staring at the carpeted floor. "But I traveled with other magicians in the League; and did some expeditions on my own as well-"

Pietro stiffened at that.

Wanda caught it, pursing her lips at him. "I was all right, it turned out I was meant to travel alone."

"Why?"

"Because I met…people," Wanda twisted her lips and turned away, clearly uncertain.

Pietro leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees. "People," he repeated.

Wanda's eyes filled with concern. "We became friends," she finally said, her voice soft –and cautious.

_She thinks I won't approve_, Pietro realized.

Wanda let out a breath. "These people were treated so horribly; by their own family- I couldn't not help them-"

Pietro straightened when it dawned on him she was apologizing to him for _helping_ them.

_Just who are these people?_ He wondered. He thought again of their father.

"Wanda, who are they?" he insisted, a terrible feeling of foreboding crashing like a wave into him. "Are you in danger—"

Wanda's gaze locked onto his and Pietro could read in her face she knew he was on the cusp of some kind of epiphany.

"They're not evil," she immediately said.

"Then tell me who they are."

Wanda recoiled…ever so slightly. "You have to promise me first you'll let me explain—in full. And not start freaking out at me."

It's that bad then.

Pietro sighed. "If I get all my questions answered."

Wanda nodded; but her face was somber.

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**A/N: **Ok, so it's 4am and I'm wiped. I was gonna keep this going, but heck. More to come. At LAST pieces of the story are coming together, I'm happy to say. Hope you enjoy. Don't forget the Scooby Snacks! Review ! Time for ZZZZZZZZ…..


	14. Chapter 13: Chitauri Sceptor

**A/N: **well, today I broke 711 views! Hoorah! Again, it's really great that this story is being read all over the world and so many bits of positive feedback are coming in for this. I really wish those of you who have not yet reviewed would leave even a tidbit though of what you think . Anyways; you know the drill; ok, here…we…go!

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_Children of the Tesseract: Ch. 13: The Chitauri Scepter_

Loki felt the wave of power wash over him and knew it at once: the Force from the place Barton called "Xavier's School."

She was _here_.

Blast it all.

It was _too soon_; the mortal-possessing creature could ruin his perfect timetable by acting before he was ready.

Before the mortals' rage monster was unleashed.

Loki could not abide that. Not when so much depended upon flawless timing.

Loki sighed. He would simply have to tweak his plans a bit. The other mortals, even the mortal magician, did not worry him. Yes, it would take a battle to bring them down, make them submit-

But that was the _point_; he had a realm-wide audience after all; it would be wasteful had he no show to offer them…. Loki grinned, delighted by the thought.

Yes, this "Phoenix" would be put out of the way; then he would proceed.

A little tweaking could prove …fun; the cage was becoming a bit dull.

Loki grinned again.

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"They're here," Wanda suddenly said.

"Who?" Pietro asked, rising from the beige sofa.

"Jean Grey, with Emma and her Cuckoos."

Pietro was sure Wanda deliberately mentioned Dr. Grey first, to put him at ease; but even still.

Emma Frost, the White Queen? Here?

No, 'ease' was not on today's menu then.

"Where?"

"The meeting room we left."

Pietro sighed. "Can you sense why they're here?"

Wanda shrugged. "I don't have to. I asked Emma to come here; and Jean."

Pietro blinked at that. "W…what?!" It was akin to asking _their father_ here!

Wanda took her twin's shoulders. "Pietro, we don't have much time left. I'll still tell you everything, I promise, but if Emma insisted on coming now, then it means we'll be moving soon."

Pietro grasped her elbows. "Wait. What do you mean 'we'll be moving soon'? What's happening?" He paused as a terrible thought hit home. "It's more than Loki and the Tesseract, isn't it?"

Wanda sobered. "What Morgana and I discovered, yes. Why I left. Go to the meeting room; talk to Jean and Emma-"

Pietro was about to object, but Wanda leveled him 'the look,' and he stalled.

"-Please. They'll fill you in."

"Where are _you_ going?"

"I have to…talk to someone."

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Fury looked down at the monitor. "You're sure."

The lieutenant stared down at the screen, with a _telling_ red marker…over the Hellicarrier.

"Yes sir. The anomaly formed as we flew over New York, spiked…and then transferred…."  
"Here?"

A grave nod. "Yessir."

Fury sighed. "Let me guess: the bridge area," he drawled, raising his eyes.

He turned and walked away before the officer could nod affirmation.

Fury wanted to believe it was one of Stark's stupid pranks, or even one of his crack experiments gone awry, but he knew better.

An anomaly previously appeared over upstate and Pietro assumed it was his sister; a second now as they formed overhead, but his sister was _here_.

But…that left plenty of _other_ mutants to drop in. Not to mention Asgardians and any inter-galactic-whatever -else felt like it lately.

Fury quickened his pace; no alarms had gone off…but that didn't mean all was well.

Just putting up with Stark (damn him), being here meant all wasn't well.

Fury did not let himself think about the disposition similarities between Stark and the aliens/mutants who were popping in recently.

He definitely didn't let himself ponder if Stark had alien ancestry in him…. But if he did; maybe his extraterrestrial family would come by and take him away someday.

Hmmm… ok, now Fury would let himself think about _that_.

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Loki mulled and plotted…and paced.

He actually enjoyed pacing; Thor, not-brother, always nagged at him over it, telling him over the centuries: "Loki, sit down and relax!"

Loki could do many things; amazing feats of magic and trickery…but relaxation was a skill he never mastered. And pacing burnt up excessive energy.

He was a magician; he had energy to spare.

Sigyn had been the only one to ever successfully coax him to relaxation…but those bliss-filled days had died with his angelic wife.

He could suddenly feel her soft arms around him. It didn't register, but he stopped pacing.

Her intoxicating perfume filled his nostrils.

For a moment…he was in Valhalla….

Images of clear skies filled his mind, awash with golden light…the color of her hair-

He could hear laughter; his children laughing…before they knew the cold reality of rejection and exile-

Fenris wailing, abandoned in a snowy wasteland-

Just like he had been-

NO!

Loki snapped back to reality, gasping, pain shooting through his chest, when he felt a presence behind him-

He spun around, his eyes glassy.

It was her- the mortal magician.

Oh blast it all.

She stood on the other side of the glass-of course- and met his eyes, her gaze calm and steady. Her long cape was no longer swept over one shoulder but draped over her front.

Her dark sapphire eyes were bright with purpose.

Loki straightened to his full 6'3'' height, staring back down at her coolly, forcing all emotion-weakness-back down.

"We meet again," was all he said.

The Scarlet Witch nodded. "I need to speak to you."

Loki smirked. "I believe you already are."

The other magician did not react, except to draw an object she had apparently been concealing beneath her cloak-

Loki hissed.

It was his scepter.

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**A/N: **OK, was gonna make this longer, but another set of ideas hit me while writing this and now I'm gonna do a little research and rearranging of the plot to incorporate a new angle. So….hope yas all don't mind…lol. Don't forget the Scooby Snacks (reviews!). Feed the author plz!

Also, I'm leaving the character descriptions succinct on purpose, FYI; I DO NOT like laundry list descriptions and so I'll add more details in due course about each character, but at the appropriate times. Hope you're still enjoying. Thx!

PS, hope the paragraph breakers have been helping. They finally started uploading! Yay!


	15. Chapter 14: the Dark Truth

**A/N: **OK, research and such done; gonna explore a few things in depth. Hope you like! Sooo many ppl reading this! Got the Aussie folks back in the fold: hi guys/gals! And also in Thailand again- awesome! Plz enjoy, comment and feedback are GREATLY welcome!

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_Children of the Tesseract: Ch. 14: The Dark Truth_

"Where did you get that!?" Loki venomously snarled. His fists slammed against the glass.

His angular face was twisted by rage, but Wanda caught a flick of blue in his forest-green eyes.

So, it was true then; she had sensed something amiss in Stuttgart and then caught a glimpse of memory in her twin's mind, but this sealed it.

He was being controlled.

Her stomach tied in a knot. She knew a few people who would be horrified at this revelation-

Horrified for Loki.

"I 'found' it in a maximum-security lab downstairs." Her voice was unruffled…and unapologetic.

Loki started. "You broke into your own allies' chambers and stole my staff?"

Wanda simply raised her brows at him. A smirk flitted across her lips.

_Unrepentant little wench_, he thought, but somehow a strange feeling of…approval soothed his anger. He decided he wanted to see where this was going.

His staff-now _that_ would be going nowhere.

"And, may I ask, what you intend to do with it?" Loki's voice and body smoothly morphed from fury to mild curiosity.

_Oh, what a deviant he must have been as a child_, Wanda mused. She could practically see the snake oil glossing his silver tongue. Well, as Pietro would say: Who was she to talk?

The image of a waterfall of whipped desserts falling over an open corridor into the dining hall below—and _atop her brother_—swaggered through her mind.

Wanda couldn't repress the snicker. It had been worth it.

Loki noticed; straightening and giving her a side eyed look. "You know, magician, one trickster can smell it on another."

Touché, Wanda silently agreed. But that also meant one game-player could detect another.

And she had no time for games, at least not his. _Hers_ was another story.

She held up the staff. "Why did Thanos give you this?" She kept her tone casual on purpose.

Loki's reaction was instant. He actually took several steps back, his face melting from his perfect mask to one of terror. Green eyes widened and the little color in his face fled.

Wanda wondered how often he had worn that expression while with the Chitauri. A pang of sympathy…_pity_ wrenched her insides.

_Poor man_, she thought. Regardless of his past actions, he didn't deserve what they no doubt inflicted on him. And Morgana had told her all of the stories. She hadn't slept for days after.

Loki saw the play of emotion over her. He instantly switched gears from fear back to rage. He reclosed the distance between them, the erupting volcano again.

His hands struck the glass again—several times. "I need not your pity," he growled, his voice vicious, "or sympathy. Keep your feeble sentiment," his eyes blazed cerulean, and Wanda kept her gaze fixed on his expressions; his eyes were wild and glassy, his pupils dilated—he was in pain then, Wanda realized—" when I lay waste to your insipid world and crush you beneath my heel, I will waste none of it on you."

They had _made_ him unhinged, just barely sane-easier to control that way, no doubt, Wanda deduced. "But you don't deny it was Thanos," she quietly replied, her gaze unwavering, her body non-reactive to his threats. She was already pulling at ideas on how to help him.

Loki blinked. She wasn't afraid; she hadn't recoiled from him. It was as though his words had hit a wall and shattered against it. But then it registered what she had asked.

He bared his teeth. "You know nothing. Better you preoccupy yourself with how you shall persuade me to spare your fellow Midgardian _sheep_ when the time comes."

Wanda saw a picture of Loki attacking Genosha, and couldn't withhold the snort that burst out of her; he hadn't done his homework _fully_ then.

Good; what he didn't know…_they_ didn't know.

Loki looked at her like she was mad—then his expression changed; ah, no, looked at her like she was an idiot.

Good; underestimating the enemy was a plea to be defeated. She'd happily oblige.

Testing the weight of the staff, Wanda paced slowly around the glass cage. The supposedly impenetrable prison, she knew, couldn't be more useless holding him had it been made of Paper Mache. But…she wasn't about to tell Fury that. Not yet, anyways.

"Sheep," she tasted the word on her tongue and glanced at Loki. His body stayed where it was, but he rotated so he was always facing her. His eyes were wary now, as if he had decided his dismissal of her was perhaps too quick.

"I'd like to watch you say those things to my birth father," she began conversationally, her gaze roving the chamber casually; in her peripherals she saw Loki flinch at her relaxed demeanor-he was wrong-footed, he knew that now, she noted.

"Your birth father," Loki echoed, "you told Thor you were adopted."

Ah, so he was watching then…Pietro probably helped with that, Wanda assumed. "I did," she confessed, stopping and fixing her gaze back on him, "but that doesn't mean we never met our birth father."

"Your brother is adopted also?"

Wanda nodded, watching something change in Loki's stance. Something…unknotted. His gaze went to the floor, and then re-met hers. "Tell me of this birth father of yours."

It was a request; his voice was strangely…soft. Vulnerable, Wanda thought.

She set the scepter on a nearby metal table, pointedly ignoring how everything in the detention area was made of metal…like the rest of the Hellicarrier. She leaned against the railing wound around his cell.

She exhaled, and began her narrative, determined to get through to him.

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**A/N: **OK, so I got a long day tomorrow and wanted to make this longer…but, ya know. Hope you enjoyed! Questions? Comments? Feedback? All welcome; sans the flames plz!


	16. Chapter 15: Monsters & Outcasts

**A/N: **Firstly, MANY thanks for all the readers I've had the last few days! Over 807 views! Wow! For a writer, that's very gratifying. Anyways, still no negative feedback, which I'm taking as a good sign. I hope the integration of X-men, etc. is still working out for y'all; now that Loki and Wanda have met and there are mutants, and the Phoenix on board…you'll find out. LOL.

But, some questions to be answered first: MarvelFanGirl- I continue to GREATLY appreciate your reviews, questions and input! U R epic! OK, so first: yes the Magician's League was my idea, not from Marvel. The purpose they serve you'll see in future chapters. As for what happened to Kurt and Wanda with the 'gladiator match,' that I took from _"Wolverine and the X-Men: Hunting Grounds,"_ which is the episode in which Wanda and Kurt were kidnapped by Spiral and forced to compete in Mojo's "hunting grounds." A couple chapters back when Wanda is reminiscing about what Magneto tried to turn her into, I included a quote from that episode. Hope that makes better sense now.

Also, I don't plan to bring C'thon into the story, as I'll be taking the plot in other directions, though that may change in the future; not sure yet. And as for the Earth being magically deficient, yes, there is also a reason why I changed that from the Marvel universe, which will be revealed later on. Hope that covers everything! If I missed something, (oh! Kurt did NOT die in that gladiator match, BTW), plz let me know. Kurt was killed another way…which will be revealed later on! Sorry that that's all I seem to be saying! Anyways, c'mon Earth's magician and Asgard's magician are having their second encounter! Let's get to the story! Onward!***

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_Children of the Tesseract: Ch. 16- Monsters & Outcasts _

After Wanda set Loki's spear down, she subtly hexed it to 'sleep.' She didn't trust the spear more than she did Thanos himself, and if he gave the spear to Loki, it was for a vile reason; a vile reason she was going to cut off at the pass.

The spear's essence in her mind's eye seemed to roll over and yawn before dropping off into slumber. Phew; she was relieved Morgana taught her that trick.

They'd have privacy then.

She had already dealt with the security cameras; they were now showing Loki pace lazily-and alone- nothing threatening. It would keep the guards busy and unalarmed so they could talk.

She turned back to Loki; his blade-sharp eyes were narrowed suspiciously. He had caught everything and no doubt pieced together what she must have done beforehand to secure their time unobserved-

And was surely wondering…. _Why?_

"I told you, we need to talk," she reminded him.

He blinked at that. She _could_ read him then. Blast, no one on Asgard ever could; so why a mortal? His body tensed.

"Just what sort of man is your birth father?" Loki inquired quietly, his voice wary-distrustful.

"Not the sort of man you'd survive if you crossed. He's…temperamental-at best."

She watched the gears turning….

"So he favors your elder brother then," Loki deduced. Not surprising, that. He thought of Thor, golden, glorious in battle, adored by everyone….

His stomach twisted.

"No," Wanda replied, and Loki fought to keep the surprise from his face, "he approves of me _less_ than Pietro, but neither of us is in his good graces right now." She twisted her lips sardonically. "But, the feeling is mutual, so it's not important."

Loki smiled, her hard eyes said that yes: _it was of much import, actually_; but he kept that to himself. "But you warn me from his kingdom, why?" his tone was light and sarcastic.

"You've already failed at suicide once. I see no need for a repeat."

Loki could never recall such overwhelming shock; like having an entire ocean suddenly dropped on top of him. No…it was impossible…. _How_ could this mortal know about the Bifrost? She couldn't.

But, then it all made sense.

"_You_ are the one who told your brother of us," Loki growled, feeling fresh anger rise like a scorching tide within him, "Thor and me. You are the one who told him of our dispositions." Alabaster fists slammed against the glass, but harder; the sound reverberated through the detention area.

"How did you get into Asgard!? How did you sojourn amongst us undetected?" Loki planted the flats of his hands against the glass, letting magic ripple in them just enough for Wanda to see the beginnings of emerald flames; to his surprise, only her eyes narrowed, there was no other reaction.

"You will tell me, or I shall reduce this fortress to ash," he hissed, his voice deathly ferocious.

Wanda only straightened. "I thought leveling the Hellicarrier was the original plan anyways."

Loki snarled, "I could ensure your fates are far worse; yours most of all."

Wanda, to his amazement, only offered him a sober look. "I think with what you've been through, torture is the last thing you want to watch right now; and torturing me would be futile; how would you see the blood for starters?" She waved to her _dark red_ garb.

Loki repressed the urge to vomit, totally missing her jab; but he felt the acid of bile work up his throat.

_How had she_ known?

"You are very well informed," he murmured; feeling suddenly sick and empty. Dizziness seized his thoughts in an effort to keep the memories at bay: the darkness, the cold rock of his cell…the sharp laughter as his body was gouged, burnt…the endless starvation and sleep deprivation…his throat raw from screaming-

Screaming for _Thor_-

He was in a cell _now_.

No, they _wouldn't _torture him…even if they do have a magician.

Magical torture…. Loki shuddered. He could distantly hear the mortal mage's voice as he sank deeper and deeper into…_before_; he vaguely registered that she sounded concerned-

Whap!

Loki snapped back to himself only to realize the Scarlet Witch had _slapped_ him across the face-

And that his body was shaking-

And that she was…standing with him _in the cell_, holding him by the arms.

He could only stare at her, wide eyed and incredulous.

The magician looked around her with distaste. "This place is only dredging up bad memories for you," she said, and her tone intimated to Loki it was having the same effect on her-but for what reason? "I think we should leave."

"What!?" Loki couldn't have heard that right; but the magician only looked back at him with intense eyes.

"We're going."

And she grabbed her cape and waved it over them. Multi-shaded, fluidic crimson light swirled around them and the cell was empty when it faded away.

But according to the cameras, Loki continued his relentless pacing.

The two guards on duty sipped their coffee while watching the miniature screens.

"Do you think he'll ever get tired?" the one asked.

"No, but he'll probably wear a track in the cell that'll go clean through."

"But then he'd escape."

"Yeah, but then we'd escape from this assignment."

They both looked at each other and snickered.

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Pietro zipped into the meeting room just in time to see Tony Stark: smart-ass billionaire-playboy and Emma Frost: The White Queen, international terrorist, government insurrectionist and world-wide criminal, dueling in an ultimate contest of stink-eye.

"Uh," was all he could think of to say.

Everyone turned to him, and he couldn't miss how unnaturally bright Dr. Grey's lime green eyes were; like they were on fire.

On fire….

He licked his lips nervously. "Phoenix, I presume."

Dr. Grey smiled at him. "Hello, Pietro; yes, the Phoenix is within me, but for now, you're talking to me."

Emma twisted her lips, still disapproving of the Phoenix's presence.

Pietro noticed; filed it away for later.

"Ok, so what decided to stop by now?" a voice angrily barked from behind him.

Fury stomped passed him as if he weren't there and leveled a glower at the seven new women in the room. "Dr. Grey," he greeted flatly, and then turned a one-eyed glare at Emma and the Cuckoos. "I don't have any room in my base for terrorists except in the holding cells Frost. You'd better be here for the right reasons."

Emma only gave a wan, lazy smile. "The world is at stake, Director; our victory has my vested interest."

Fury's eye narrowed; but he nodded at length after scrutinizing her a minute.

"So, the X-Men are joining?" Pietro asked.

Jean nodded as Pietro and Fury joined them at the table; though neither sat. "The Professor is scattering the X-Men across the world; according to what the Scarlet Witch told Emma, this is much bigger than just Loki."

"'Just' Loki," Stark said with a sigh, "as if he wasn't bad enough."

Thor threw him a glower. It went unnoticed.

"Then we need to get ready," Fury replied, "what forces can Xavier contribute?"

Stark opened his mouth.

"I asked Dr. Grey, Stark," Fury growled.

"Well, I was just going to say that I should go first, as I have the best tech."

Fury rolled his eye. Everyone just looked at Stark.

"Hey, it's not my fault I'm a genius," Stark said defensively.

"Why would Loki even want to conquer this world?" Fury asked the ceiling, massaging his head.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

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Loki felt his feet lift off the floor and motion all around him; all he could see in that split second though was the play of ruby light. And then he found himself standing beside the mortal magician in a place that was no doubt a mortal apartment.

He heard a gasp. His attention riveted to the noise and noticed a young girl standing near a door, her arms full of folded laundry.

"Anna," the mortal magician said, releasing his arms and striding over to her. "It's ok; I just brought…a guest."

The girl, who was a couple inches shorter than Scarlet Witch took in Loki's pale face, menacing garb and dark under his eyes. "Who…?"

"I'm giving you the rest of the day off," Scarlet Witch said in reply, her voice soft and very gentle. She took the laundry from the girl and opened the door. "Enjoy the rest of your day, all right?"

Now the girl looked at her; eyes wide from Loki and blinked in confusion.

"I'll manage everything," the magician assured, "go visit Drew."

'Anna' perked up at that. _Must be her lover_, Loki mused. He watched as the girl hugged her mistress and darted gleefully out the door.

The mortal magician put the laundry down on a nearby sofa and with a wave and burst of red, the wash was gone. She snapped her fingers and in another reddish wave, this time around herself, her 'uniform' was replaced by scarlet pants and a black top; elegant, but far less formal than her other raiment.

They were standing in some sort of living quarters, Loki could see from where he stood by a large glass door leading to a balcony outside. It was sunny; the door was partly open, though a full screen kept bugs out. A pleasant, fragrant breeze brushed against his face. He relished it.

The room was done in a cream color, tastefully done, with a sofa and two-seated counterpart on either side of a carved, glass table. The mortal magician was headed to the opposite end of the room, where a wooden island divided it from what appeared to be some sort of cooking area. She opened a large, white box and Loki caught sight of food inside.

His stomach rumbled; he started. Good, the other magician didn't hear.

She took out an assortment of colorful-looking foods; Loki wandered closer, curious as to what she was up to. He wouldn't believe for a moment she was actually going to _cook_ for him; unless she was a complete fool, she was fully aware he intended to bring war and bloodshed to her world.

She pulled out a cutting board, knives, and turned a small silver lever near some sort of silver basin; water came out and she dipped each item beneath it- ah, washing it, Loki realized.

She placed each item-vegetables, Loki deduced, though he didn't recognize all of them; 'Wanda' opened a cupboard over her head, and placed a large bottle on the granite counter between her and him.

She looked up at him. "Would you like some wine?"

Loki blinked. She did intend to feed him then? But, why? Was she going to attempt poison? No; she was far too clever for that. She was no fool…so what was her game?

And this was, he was certain, a game.

"And what will you be adding to it?" he asked evenly.

Wanda smirked. "Well, I was intending to ask you, actually, if you have any preferences on poison; I have a vast assortment for you to choose from." Her tone was so deadpan she couldn't not be jesting.

Loki couldn't help but smile. "Surprise me then."

Wanda smirked again; and pulled out two glasses. She then fetched some sort of sharp, twisted device and Loki couldn't help but take a step back, his throat closing in terror.

Memories came: cutting, hurting, _laughter_ as he coughed up blood-

The magician looked up at him in concern; and then looked at the device she held-

It clicked-

She waved it into oblivion; and opened the wine bottle instead with magic.

Oh…that's what had been for then; the wine.

Loki relaxed. He wrapped his arms around himself, pointedly not looking at his hostess as he heard a cork pop and the pouring of wine.

It was so humiliating. She knew; she probably was aware in full of what the Chitauri had done to him: how low they had brought him.

Not that it took much; he was already worthless from both Asgard's standpoint and Jotunheim's. It said a great deal when even the _monsters _didn't want you.

So, why was she being kind to him? Was it pity?

The thought burned through his shame. No, he had told her already; he didn't want or need her pity.

He looked up as she walked up to him holding two goblets filled with a deep red liquid. She held one out to him. He didn't take it.

"Why did you bring me here?"

The magician didn't flinch; she only offered him a dipped-chin look, then the wine again.

"I told you already: we need to talk."

"We were talking on the flying fortress."

"Yes, and it was getting to you." She put the glass full in his face. "You get more answers only _after_ you take this and drink it."

Loki regarded the glass, and at length, took it. Sipped the wine, not expecting much…but it was actually rather pleasant. The aroma was full and sweet; the taste light and pleasing. A gentle burn went down his throat as he swallowed. Ironic; after so long the first thing he drinks is mortal wine. He never would have predicted this.

The mortal sauntered back to the kitchen and began chopping her washed vegetables. Loki followed her.

"I have drunk your Midgardian wine."

_Hint, hint_, Wanda thought with a tiny grin. "Not all of it."

"That was not a condition."

He must be feeling better. "What do you want to know?"

"Why am I here?"

"We both needed a more comfortable place to talk; and I'm hungry."

Loki couldn't help but retract the claws. She was sparing his dignity by saying _she_ was hungry. She had looked at his hands when she said it; his pale, thin, obviously malnourished hands.

"What was it about the flying fortress that displeased you so?" he asked instead, letting his body relax. No, he didn't understand fully her true intent yet, but she meant him no harm; whatever her other motives were.

Which meant for the time being: he was safe.

The vegetables were chopped with speed and precision- she is skilled with blades then, Loki noted with approval- and a pan placed on some sort of mechanical device that conjured blue and orange fire with what appeared to be a hearth beneath it.

"My father's palace is made completely of metal," the magician admitted at length, her voice empty.

Loki tilted his head. "And you carry no pleasant memories of the place, mortal?"

"I have a name."

Loki grinned, just a hint of teasing. "You have not granted permission that I may use it."

The magician raised an eyebrow at him. "You never asked, Prince."

Loki grinned again. She knew how these games were played then; good.

He knew he had smelled something of the trickster on her; he looked forward to seeing just _how much_.

"Then let us mutually agree," he offered.

Wanda appeared to mull it over for a moment; but Loki could see from the glint in her eyes she was just playing him.

"Best decide quick, mortal, lest I withdraw my permission," he baited.

"Then I'll just use it anyways," she quipped in return. But, she gave him a tiny smile and picked up her wine glass. She clanked it against his.

"To names, and using them," she said and took a sip.

Loki felt another smile tug at his lips. "Agreed," he replied and also drank.

After the matter was settled, he watched her with interest. She clearly was at home in a cooking area, but…that made no sense.

"Your father dwells in a palace?"

Wanda nodded.

"And so he is king over a kingdom."

Another nod.

"But then, if you are his daughter, you are a princess."

Wanda looked up, but not at him. "What are you hinting at?" her tone was emotionless.

"Well, you keep a servant," Loki reasoned, gesturing at the door where the girl had left. "She tends to you, does she not?"

"She keeps things in order while I'm away."

"But, you are familiar with this cooking area-"

"On earth it's called a kitchen."

"Kitchen," Loki amended, "and yet, you prepare your own food, and not even with the ease of magic. Why?"

Wanda pulled other ingredients form various cupboards, as well as more pans. Meat appeared from a freeze box below the larger one and was placed upon a plate and went into what Wanda called a 'microwave' to defrost. More veggies as well as brown rice found their way into pans and the larger, white box was opened again and a bottle of sauce removed.

As the food simmered, Wanda returned her gaze to him. "I try to use my magic as rarely as possible while on Earth."

Loki gestured in question.

"This planet is a magic void," she clarified, "magic isn't supposed to exist here. If…when I use my magic, I run the risk of it being detected by another magician…like him."

Loki repressed the shiver; he knew which 'him' Wanda was referring to.

Wanda looked at him so sincerely, it was…refreshing, Loki realized. "Everyone else here who has magic is either an ancient, or a relic magician-like Strange."

Loki nodded that he knew the name—Barton had been an apt resource.

"I'm neither," Wanda went on, "and I don't want to be the cause of drawing attention to this world."

"And so you hide?" Loki asked in disbelief.

Wanda shook her head, her face adamant. "I remain inconspicuous. It's not about pride; it's about protecting innocent lives." Her voice was strangely hard, like she had had this conversation with another.

"Your father does not approve," Loki intuited.

Wanda's lips pursed. "No," was all she said.

Then it was back to work; Loki shocked himself by offering to help, which Wanda blinked at, but then delegated the rest of the vegetables to him; Loki deduced it was because she knew his own proficiency with blades. But, soon enough the meal was ready and they were seated at a small table near the sliding door. The sun was beginning to set, and a cool breeze wafted in, mingling fresh scents with the smell of meat, steamed veggies and rice with sauce.

"How was it that your birth father did not raise you?" Loki couldn't help but ask.

Wanda played with her rice, her brow furrowed. "My birth father is a mutant-"

Loki nodded; he'd already assumed as much.

"-he married a woman named Magda, who was my and Pietro's birth mother," Wanda continued, her face strangely sorrowful, "but he shielded her from what he really was."

Loki felt a grim foreboding. "And he was…?"

Wanda gave a tiny, helpless shrug. "If you ever heard about him on the news, you'd hear words like: terrorist, war-criminal, maniac, tyrant…monster."

Loki swallowed. _Monster_.

"When my mother discovered the truth, she fled from him. He had destroyed an entire city and couldn't conceal he'd done it. But, she was pregnant when she left him. He didn't know."

"With you?"

Wanda nodded, grave. "She found refuge at a place in the Balkans"- she caught Loki's blank look-"it's in a mountainous area, and gave birth to my brother and me."

"So you're twins?"

Another nod. "But, she ran away shortly after, convinced my father would track her down."

Loki felt a pang of sympathy at her tone. It was saturated with…sadness. She put her head down.

"I'm sorry," he heard himself tentatively say, "did he find her?" Translation: _did he kill her?_

It was plausible to Loki; he could see a Frost Giant doing it, after all.

But Wanda shook her head. "No, she left when it was winter; she didn't survive the cold. She was too weak from giving birth to us." She sounded guilty. She sipped her wine; her eyes were wet.

Loki flicked a wrist; a silk handkerchief appeared from green mist in his hand. He offered it to Wanda.

Wanda actually heard herself give a hiccupping laugh; it was red…. "No green?" she couldn't help but ask.

Loki's lips tugged in a smile again; she took it.

Wanda dabbed her eyes and went on. "We were left with the midwife who delivered us. She found a family nearby who were childless from war and wanted children."

Loki's brow furrowed. "She intended to give you to people living in the thick of wartime?"

"No, the war was close to ending; there were only final skirmishes to deal with. The land had been invaded; but the monarchy's armies had pushed them back. She snuck out with us one evening to deliver us to a farmer's family." Wanda flinched. Loki reached for her, not really understanding why; but she raised a hand to say she was all right.

"She was named Bolva; she…was killed trying to take us to the farmers."

Loki straightened in his chair. "But…a midwife? Why?"

"Because of what she was," Wanda said bitterly, thumping down her fork; one hand rubbed her forehead, "she was part human, part cow-"

Loki started in shock, certain he'd not heard that right.

Wanda looked up at him and nodded. "Yes: part human, part cow; she was created by a scientist. When she was spotted by the soldiers on patrol, they thought she was some sort of monster; they chased after her. She barely had time to hide us in a thicket before they cornered her. She-" Wanda shivered, then sighed in resignation. "She didn't deserve it; she was a good person."

Loki was silent for a moment; his tongue empty of silvery words of comfort. "You're right, she didn't," was all he could think to say.

Another moment of silence, then: "Who was it who found you then?"

"My future adopted father," Wanda replied, coming back to herself a bit, "he heard Pietro and I crying as they were tracking down the enemy fighters. He found Bolva and the handful of men she took with her-" she smiled proudly at that- "and then heard us. He pulled us out of the thicket and took us back to the palace before hypothermia got us."

"Hypo-?"

"Hypothermia," Wanda explained, "it's a condition you get from being in the cold too long. It was winter when we were born," she added at seeing Loki's confused expression.

Loki's gaze fell to his plate. A dead birth mother, babies discovered in the snow, a war coming to a close…it sounded familiar.

Too familiar; icy talons gripped him suddenly.

He heard a snap of fingers and the sparking of fire. He jolted back to reality just as Wanda conjured a fire in the small hearth behind him and to one side.

"You look cold," she said, "we can sit by the fire and eat if you prefer that."

Loki was about to decline, but then felt himself nod, almost against his own volition.

The fire gave welcome warmth; Loki had to admit that a minute later.

"How did your adopted mother react to your arrival?" Fleetingly, he thought of Frigga.

Had she been happy, when Odin brought him home? He wanted to think so, but she had never said.

_You are our son, Loki and we your family_.

He wanted to believe she had meant it.

But then why? Why betray Fenris? Why be silent when his son was bound for eternity?

Had their truly been no other way?

Loki couldn't believe that.

But he pushed the thoughts away when he realized Wanda was looking at him; _really_ looking at him, as though she could read his every thought.

The realization hit him that he didn't know if mind-reading was amongst her skills. His breath froze.

"She was happy," Wanda replied instead, but her eyes clearly caught everything, Loki could not mistake that, "we were raised as theirs; no one ever knew otherwise for years."

"So, they lied to you then." _Like I had been lied to._

Wanda sighed. "They didn't know where we came from; I know they sought our birth parents, but found nothing. We grew up as royal; Pietro was eldest, so they assumed, so he was to inherit," her lips pursed in a very tight line, "and as Princess Wanda, I was expected to marry someone royal, or at least noble, and bring a solid alliance to the family."

The distaste on her face and saturating her tone was undeniable.

Loki grinned. "But that did not meet with your own wishes." He knew what 'expectations' felt like-and the looks of disappointment when said expectations were not met.

Pain lanced through him. He pushed it away.

"No, I wasn't about to be sold off for a royal alliance," Wanda avowed, her tone dark, "so…I had to get rid of my suitors."

Her eyes brightened at that. A chuckle slipped through her lips. That got Loki's attention.

He knew that look.

"And…how does a Princess rid herself of unwanted suitors?" he asked silkily.

Wanda turned to him, her face a study in…mischief. "Guess," was all she said.

Loki couldn't help but snicker in delight. He knew it; a fellow trickster indeed.

"I want to hear every dreadful bit of it," he said.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

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**A/N: ** thanks for reading. I know not really any plot answers in this chapt., but maybe more questions. PLZ be patient! All will be explained. Just stay tuned. And plz leave a review for the author! K? Till later.


	17. Chapter 16: Shadows of the Past

**A/N: **Still holding out hope for reviews here folks! Hope you're still enjoying! LOL. Anyways, onward!

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_Children of the Tesseract: Ch. 16-Shadows of the Past_

Prodigy was quick to spot the agent who was doing top secret work on…Galaga.

"I won't say a word if I play next," he murmured conspiratorially to the guy, leaning over his shoulder.

The boy, who couldn't be older than Pietro, stilled for a sec, his eyes wide.

He nodded.

"And me after," Hacker said, coming up on his other side.

The agent sighed and waved at the console. He was so sure he'd been in the clear after Stark went by without noticing.

"Sweet!" Hacker and Prodigy said in unison, fist bumping.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

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"What do you mean: Loki didn't open the portal?" Fury demanded.

"That's just it," Jean replied, "the Phoenix claims she didn't sense his magical signature on the portal; someone else opened it."

"But, the Tesseract opened the portal," Hill put in.

"Yes, but who was in control of the Tesseract?" Jean replied, "Some other magic worker, presently unknown, commanded the cube to open the inter-dimensional gate."

Stark sighed. "We could try to track the signature once we have the Tesseract back," he glanced at Banner, who nodded in agreement.

"How much longer till we can trace the cube?" Fury asked the two engineers.

"Well, Forge is fine-tuning his tech to our work as we speak," Banner reported, "we should be ready within the hour."

Fury nodded.

"OK, so what happens then?" Pietro asked.

"That's the problem," Emma said grimly, "there are many possibilities."

Fury's brow raised. "How many?" he echoed quietly, ominously.

Emma simply leveled a flat stare at him. "According to what Wanda told me, the Tesseract's 'awakening' triggered a ripple within the fabric of space and time—a ripple that will expand and has inter-dimensional properties."

Fury gave her an expectant look.

Emma sighed heavily, but it was Jean who answered. "Director, an inter-dimensional ripple originating within a mystical relic will be sensed as it expands by every worker of magic…in every dimension…in every universe."

"Oh, God," Hill breathed.

Widow's passive face paled, Rogers put his face in both palms, and Banner exhaled and raked a hand through his hair.

Pietro was surprised at Stark's reaction though; the man looked…well glassy-eyed, but like he was in some sort of shock. But, it was apparent that within the shell-shock, the gears were turning, rapidly.

Without preamble, he walked quickly to the railing that overviewed the bridge below and fixed his attention on three young men who were gathered around a screen, whispering intently to each other.

"Hey, the Galaga club is closed boys," he shouted down at them, pointing at Prodigy and Hacker, who spun around with 'hand-in-cookie-jar' expressions.

"You two WOW-ers get up here," he ordered and walked towards the lab.

"And where are you going?" Rogers asked.

Stark pivoted on a heel. "With Terminator-man's tech added to ours, we might be able to adapt…"he stopped when he realized everyone but Banner was getting that fog-over-the-eyes expression, "ugh, never mind. I've got an idea, gonna go see to it…you coming Dr. Zen?"

Banner flushed, but eagerly rose and joined Stark.

"I'll be back," Stark told everyone, his Schwarzenegger flawless.

"Your accent is terrible," Fury said anyways.

Stark only grinned as he and Banner exited.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

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The rest of the meeting was put on hold until they knew whether or not Stark, with his two new recruits, Forge and Banner, were able to 'work their magic,' as Stark said later.

Thor took the opportunity to excuse himself and wander the metal fortress.

He had seen very little of the mortal ways during his first visit; curiosity was one of the things that compelled him to explore in solitude.

Another was he needed time to think.

Nothing was unfolding as he and his parents had assumed. When Heimdall came to them that evening and shocked them all by declaring the lost jewel of Asgard had made itself known on Midgard, Thor immediately leapt at the chance to return to the mortal realm.

He had so desperately missed Jane; he longed to see his mortal friends Selvig and Darcy again.

But, he also ached for the chance to leave Asgard for a time; the palace had felt as though it were slowly constricting on him, day after day, growing smaller; growing darker.

Loki. Loki was gone; and nothing felt as it did—as it should. Thor's mother had remained almost constantly in her gardens, spending her grief in solitude. She spoke very little anymore; Thor had not seen her smile in all the Aesir year Loki was gone. The Allfather saw to his endless array of duties, but Thor caught the pain in his eyes; and the shadows of guilt. He hunched over when he thought no one was around; Thor wondered if guilt and mourning had become an actual, unseen weight his father was now carrying.

Thor wanted to salve his own misery with anger; anger at his parents for not revealing to him or Loki the truth, anger at his father replying to Loki's plea for acceptance as he clung to Grungir with "No, Loki."

But, he couldn't. They were suffering as much as he now; when Heimdall explained how he came to sense the Tesseract, that he could see Loki's magical essence somehow alongside the cube, Odin and Frigga had responded initially with joy, but then when it was discovered that the cube and Loki were somehow _connected_…Odin had become grim, and Frigga had looked to him, her eyes filled with fear.

Thor didn't understand until they took him to their chambers…and told him of the Titan War.

Thor had learned only the scantiest details of the Titan War in his youth; Loki was the one who read tomes that weighed more than himself when they were children while Thor exhausted himself in the exercise yards, training for battle and dreaming of the wars of the future he would earn glory from while Loki read of the wars of the past. Thor sighed; his brother had been…effective with various weapons, but axes and hammers had been too clumsy in his hands. Spells and books…and yes, daggers when battle was inevitable- fit far better in his brother's skills.

Thor recalled the thousands of times Loki had striven to prove himself a true son of Odin in the training yard; and had fallen instead. He remembered the laughter of the other children, then later on the Warriors Three; and even Sif.

In Asgard, to be scorned by another warrior was humiliating enough; but a woman warrior besides? It was the ultimate degradation. And it was a sting Loki knew very well, worsened by his status as a _Prince_ of Asgard, and so the standard was set so much higher for him.

Thor came to a catwalk that overlooked a large hanger area below. He let his thoughts be consumed by the sounds of the workers prepping Quinjets and shouting orders to each other.

The Titan Wars had happened at the very conception of Asgard. In the kingdom's infancy, the Titans had sought to reduce Asgard to rubble, foreseeing that if Asgard was allowed to prosper and gain strength, it would stand as a barricade against any dark kingdom seeking to conquer the universe-all of them. During the war, many of the relics were lost; most over the millennia had been recovered, but a few had remained swallowed in the shadows of the ancient eras.

The Tesseract had been one of them. Many other, more fearsome relics, such as the dreaded Infinity Gauntlet, had been protected within Asgard's Royal Vault, but others had been taken and it was a constant fear that the Titans, even now, held them in their grasp.

Many of the Titans had disappeared over the ages, lost to time and the darkest realms in existence; for the most part they had been forgotten, their darkness now only lingering in the legends and brief chronicling in the annals of history. But Odin had lived it; granted he had been but a youth then, but even still, the terrors and blood and unimaginable evil of that time were still engrained in his memory.

Odin had recounted those nightmarish years; of the Tesseract's loss and of the Titans he suspected were the most likely magic workers capable of mastering it.

There was one in particular, whom Odin had spoken of: Thanos. Thor held back the shudder.

He desperately hoped, from what Odin had told him that it was not him who held the Tesseract in his control now.

Nor, far more importantly: Loki.

"_Loki did not open the portal," _the mortal called Grey had said.

Had one of the Titans? Had Loki somehow made an alliance with those evil beings?

Thor shook his head. No, he had to be wrong. Loki would never betray Asgard. Yes, he was angry and bitter over the lies he had been fed his entire life—Thor could not blame him for that; he felt the same—but for that hate to fester into _treason_? No, Loki was not capable of it.

"_Thor, father is dead."_

Thor shook away the memory. But, doubt twisted his insides. Loki had lied to him; had told him Odin had perished and that he was condemned to eternal exile by Frigga's order.

Thor clutched the railing and sighed in grief. In times of doubt, his first instinct was to seek Loki for counsel.

What was he to do now?

"Thor."

The Aesir spun around. It was the magician's brother, the quick-moving 'silver' one.

"What may I do for you, silver-son?"

Pietro had to grin at that. "It's Quicksilver, actually, but my surname if Maximoff, if that helps at all." He sauntered over to Thor and leaned over the railing.

"What's troubling you?"

Thor sighed. "Tis my brother."

Pietro nodded, so he was not surprised, Thor realized.

"You live in harmony with your mage-sister, Maximoff-son."

Pietro nodded; it was a question. "It wasn't always that way, Thor."

Thor turned to him, interest piqued. "Indeed?"

Pietro nodded. "She disowned me once," his tone was grave.

Thor swallowed. "Yet, now, she treats you with much affection. So, what ended her hostility towards you?" he was hopeful; he couldn't deny it. He didn't know how to repair the gaping rift between him and Loki. But…if this mortal faced the same challenge once; could he glean understanding that may prove helpful to him now?

Pietro turned to him, and Thor couldn't help but wince at the knowing in his face. "Thor," he began, and the Aesir prince couldn't hold back the flinch at how…_gentle_ his tone was—it could forebode nothing good—"how much do you think I can really help you with Loki?"

Discovered.

Thor sighed. "I realize, it is not the exact same, you and your sister are mortals after all-"

"That's exactly my point," Pietro cut in, "I don't understand why you're asking if you have no real hope of getting answers."

Thor was stumped at that. His face showed it.

It was Pietro's turn to sigh. "The fact of the matter is I know your brother probably better than you do."

Thor straightened his massive frame at that. Rage boiled inside of him and it took all he had to not summon Mjolnir.

_How dare this insolent-!?_

Pietro straightened now too; his face so hard it appeared chiseled. "O...K," he drawled out loudly as Thor opened his mouth to verbally tear him down, "if you don't believe me, I'll prove it."

Thor folded his bulging arms. "Very well, then do so," he said harshly. There was no possible way this little mortal could know anything about an Aesir Prince; an Immortal Sorcerer once _worshipped_ by his—Maximoff-son's-kind. It was not possible; magical sister or not.

Pietro leaned against a metal pillar behind him and folded his arms; mirroring Thor.

"All right," he began, "let's talk about what Loki is like; day to day and in battle."

Thor nodded, glowering dubiously.

"Your brother, firstly, is a very persnickety man. He is obsessed with privacy; he can't stand it when people come into his room for example, or even look in it, or so much as look at the door."

Fortuitous guesswork, Thor thought.

"If left to his own devices, Loki prefers to read, study or work on experiments; he'll journey if it leads him to some artifact or magical relic or spell-book, but otherwise, he'll stay in his library for days on end, and despise being interrupted…especially if it's for a court function."

Thor loosened up a little; so far, the mortal was exactly correct.

"Also, he can't stand court; he hates the politics, he hates the fake friendships, the pretenses, the whole bit. He's usually sarcastic at them and has to be told repeatedly to show his best manners. However, when he cooperates-" Pietro grimaced, in memory- "it can only mean he's up to something."

"That is so," Thor breathed, disbelief finding him.

Pietro nodded. "He's fierce in battle, tricky and impossible to catch, he always has some sort of plan or strategy full of deception and twists to it; and when everything looks disastrous; he comes through with some sort of brilliant maneuver, because he's fiercely loyal…and too stubborn to ever quit."

Thor swallowed his disbelief. "How…how could you know such things?" he looked at the mortal, stunned.

Pietro twisted his lips. "Because I just described _my sister_."

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Magneto watched from the wall of windows as his sweet Lorna tended her roses. She was his pride and joy; the one child who was loyal. When she was grown, when he had overthrown the infestation known as humanity and mutant-kind ruled the earth unchallenged, he looked forward to the day she would be Queen.

Queen of not only Genosha-but the entire world; both mutant and human would bow before her.

Polaris, Queen of the Earth; Magneto smiled.

What a fine ring it had to it.

He had ruled in wartime; the world would need a child of peace to reign when war was but a memory. Lorna would be that child of peace.

"What of the X-Men?" he asked.

Behind him, Mystique glanced at where his gaze lie, then answered:

"Dr. Grey went with Frost and her students to SHIELD's Hellicarrier; it's presently over the Atlantic."

"And the others?"

"The new SHIELD team is assembled on the same base, though Xavier has scattered his other X-Men at key positions all over the world. We can't determine what they're doing there though."

It was strange; even their best agents couldn't uncover the motive. It bothered her; what had the Phoenix Force told them that made them react like this? She appeared in times of universal crisis.

Raven stiffened. Universal crisis. Why weren't they taking action!? It made no sense.

Magneto frowned; Raven assumed out of bafflement.

"And X-Factor?"

Ah; the frown was about Pietro then.

"Forge has offered their full forces in alliance with SHIELD for the indeterminate future; Forge and Quicksilver are on the Hellicarrier; Havok and Vogt are finishing with the search and rescue."

His frown deepened; but it dogged Raven. _Why were they doing nothing?!_

"Has there been any sign of Wanda?"

"Not yet." _Was he waiting on her? Or perhaps for Strange to return?_

"Very well. Continue to monitor."

Raven started_. That was all?_

"Wanda will return soon; of that I have no doubt."  
_And how could he know that for sure? What was his source?_

"In the meantime; keep an extra close eye on Dr. Grey, Frost and Pietro. They'll no doubt be key factors when the time comes." He turned from the window to look at Mystique. "That will be all Raven."

Dismissal. No explanations; only 'that will be all.'

No, it won't be, she thought.

"Where is that all leading Eric?"

Magneto's eyes narrowed at her. The _'It's not your place to ask,'_ look.

But Mystique had survived too long on instinct to just wave it aside when it was screaming 'Danger! Danger!' in her ears. And it was; right now.

"There is an endgame to this," she bluntly told him, "what is it? Where are these falling dominoes headed?"

Magneto drew himself up. He wasn't going to bend then.

"We Acolytes deserve to know," she all but ground out.

"And you will, when the _time is right_," Magneto flatly replied. "You are told what you need to know, when you need it, Raven. Nothing more; nothing less."

Mystique glowered.

"Do not forget yourself, Raven; you gave me an oath of loyalty…I expect you to uphold it."

It was like a slap in the face; Mystique's fury would have driven her to instantly kill anyone else; but she spun and stomped out the door before she did anything foolish.

Magneto was king here; his word was absolute. No defiance, questions, or disobedience were tolerated.

That's what the cells were for.

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Raven all but marched through Genosha's winding streets; her rage making her breathing ragged and painful. She struggled to force it from her mind; seeking distraction, she absorbed the graceful, sweeping architecture around her.

It was worth defending, this place; in spite of everything. Genosha was beautiful; but very much like her though- it reminded her daily appearances were deceiving. Like her, a shape-shifter, Genosha was wrought with carved, soaring walls of gorgeous buildings, sumptuous gardens everywhere, twisting and turning streets that flowed through the island kingdom more like rivers than roads.

But, it's 'benign' ruler had a dark side; and Genosha had a dark side as well; the cells.

Many a mutant had learned the truth about Genosha the hard way; Pax Romana was the code of law here. Citizens obeyed and caused no trouble; anyone who stepped out of line found themselves down far, far below the palace of metal in the dank, cold prisons that Magneto's palace concealed beneath its majestic exterior.

No one escaped; mutants were only released when Magneto was personally assured of their unswerving, though newfound, loyalty.

Future infractions; well, there were no future infractions. Everyone learned the first time.

She found her way to the Communications Center.

Seamus Mellencamp was at the controls, his turn at sentry duty then.

"Seamus," she said, he turned to her, fixing his one golden and one scarlet eye on her.

"Raven," he sniffed, "I can smell anger on you."

Mystique grimaced; there was no sliding anything passed him, so she never bothered to try. It was unnerving though; she could beguile everyone else…except him.

Maybe that's why she respected him.

Well, it was part of the reason. The real reason was his life story. He was born…different, more obviously not-human than her; but even after a lifetime of grotesque abuse and neglect at the hands of his own family…he wasn't bitter, wasn't vindictive; wasn't vengeful.

He was called the Knight; and for good reason; he was everything that was chivalrous and noble, everything that deserved esteem and recognition.

She admired that; considering she was just the opposite. Maybe someday she could be as good a person as him.

Someday.

"What are you thinking Raven?" he asked knowingly, raising one green eye ridge at her. His voice, deep, gravely, yet somehow cultured, was low and…expectant.

"He's hiding something from us," she said venomously. Thankfully, he understood it wasn't aimed at him.

"Hmmm, well isn't that fair?"

"Fair!?"

"Yes," Seamus calmly said, his massive body, over 7 feet tall, still somehow graceful as he gestured, "you're hiding from him Wanda has returned. Isn't that…quid pro quo?"

Mystique glowered.

"That's different. I don't want him to know she's back."

Seamus folded his muscular arms, his mutation covering them with short spines and plates of green armor—green armor that could take missile blasts without so much as a dent; she'd seen it.

"Look, something is happening; he's keeping us, you and I, his most trusted allies, in the dark. It spells trouble. And it's no coincidence that he's plotting something around the time Wanda returns and at the same time the Phoenix Force returns! All chance? No; something…paramount is going down and I want to know what."

"And how do you intend to find out?" Seamus' tone was dripping with 'I already know the answer.'

"I'm going to make a call."

"To…?"

Mystique raised her chin. "To Charles. Get me the Xavier Institute." Charles would give her answers. After all, they had grown up together; he saw her as his sister, even when their paths parted, he still loved her.

And…damn him and his sentiment and noble intentions; she still loved him too.

Seamus smiled, showing his pointed teeth and fangs. "I already did."

He stepped to one side, showing the holographic screen, and Charles' face smiling at her.

"Hello, Raven; it's so good to see you again."

Raven felt the accursed tears come. No, she would not cry. "Charles, it's so great to see you too."

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**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed! PLZ leave a review! I promise not to stalk you or toilet paper your house! Till next time! Psst to MarvelFanGirl; you got two LONG chapters outta me, I expect a LONG review!


	18. Chapter 17: Firelight

**A/N: **OK, so got lots to mention before continuing. First: OK, so a few things from previous chapters: I WILL be going back and getting chapter dividers: "XXXX" inserted into them to make reading easier, and cleaning up some grammatical errors that I found later on—so plz bear with me on that. If you have any alerts on my fic, you'll see those updates via email I assume. So, heads up on that.

Also, yes, I'm making Loki and Wanda share many personality traits, partly because they **do** have much in common, if you look at the canons: adoption, a blonde older brother who's oft times too protective, a "monster" for a birth father, a dead birth mother, and discovering their adopted past under shocking circumstances, to name a few. Plus the Wanda in the _Wolverine & the X-Men Series_ was a big reader, and in Magneto's house, was both a Princess and a General (listen to the commentaries on episodes with Wanda in them for more info). Anyways, their similarities will lead up to a BIG reason for it, but you've got to stay tuned for that. K? So, lastly, I just want to remind everyone, this is AU; so I will be making changes (not too many), but some, for the sake of the plotline. One that I'm changing now is that the twins were not raised by gypsies, but as Bolva was taking them to the gypsies to be raised, was intercepted and killed. But…the local king found them and so he raised them instead. They'll have different first names than Django and Marya, but same last name. I'm just going to write that off as it being one of the more common local last names; no relation to the royal family. Plz re-read chapter 15 to clarify. If you have any other questions, plz let me know K? So, onward!

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_Children of the Tesseract Ch. 17: Firelight _

It felt good to laugh again; Loki was forced to admit to himself.

He felt…liberated. For a while, he was not immersed in the crushing realities of rejection, expulsion…torment—

He pushed the thought away, but the smile fell from his face. He saw Wanda notice.

"There a problem?" her voice was light, but her eyes…grave. She knew; somehow, Loki had no idea how, but somehow, the woman always knew. "Is the story of my brother being covered in raspberry trifle not amusing enough?"

Loki snickered, his dark broodings forgotten. "Please, tell it again," he replied instead.

Wanda took a bite of rice and after chewing and swallowing—Loki remembered he was still hungry and mimicked her—she did. "Well, my brother was all set to be engaged to marry this Lady Persephone from a nearby kingdom. She was horrid, but no one let Pietro know that because it would cement such a powerful alliance for our family. And, even though it was 14 years after the war, father and mother were only too eager to strengthen the realm…by any means they could."

Loki nodded, taking another bite.

"Well, there was a state dinner one night, where the engagement was to be announced. But, my maid had discovered for me from one of the guards who came with Persephone's…entourage, what she was really like. So, I knew then I had to do something."

"And, how did your maid…_acquire_ this information?" Loki's voice was slick with knowing.

Wanda only sipped her wine and smiled. "You know, I never asked her…but I'm sure the guard found it a…pleasant interrogation."

"I'm sure."

Loki gave her a look that said: _naughty girl…to keep such a maid_. But he clearly didn't disapprove, Wanda noted.

Wanda only gave him a tiny smile in return.

"But," she went on, "I had little time to plan…till mother came and tried to tempt me into behaving by saying Persephone liked many of the same foods as me; so, they were going to serve my favorite things at dinner. That's when the idea came."

Loki 'tutted' at her, mock scolding, but only to coax out her tiny, deliciously _bad_ smile again.

And she did it; he took it in, loving every moment and gestured for her to continue.

It was so much fun to hear another's tales of mayhem and whatnot. He hated having no one really, to share his triumphs with after the fact—except occasionally his broth…except with _Thor_.

_Not brother…not brother…not brother_…**NOT BROTHER**!

Without realizing it, he had cast his eyes to the soft, cream-colored carpeting, when he lifted them to Wanda; she was giving him that penetrating…_very much aware_ look again.

"A brief headache," he smoothly assured her, "nothing more."

"'A brief headache,'" Wanda echoed, "I'd offer you some medicine, but I don't think they make a pill to cure older brother syndrome—at least not yet."

Her voice was thoroughly dry. Loki couldn't repress the self-effacing smile that tugged his lips up.

"I suppose you would be the one to know," he offered, his voice empty; that weight of…well, everything, pressing in around him again. He forced his breathing to remain steady, even as his lungs began to burn.

Wanda sighed. "The fact is, Loki, our older brothers _need_ us; despite the differences we've had with them. We're the _other half_ of them."

Loki looked away.

"How many times would Thor have died were you not there to save him?" she waved a hand for effect and Loki pressed his eyes closed, suddenly wanting to be back in his cell.

No; that wasn't entirely true…her voice was…nice. She was asking _gently_ and Loki had realized several stories ago that she truly had no intention of hurting him or of trying to manipulate him with deceit or charm. The afternoon had stretched to evening and their time together had been unbearably…_wonderful_. It had been such a welcome change to simply relax, and eat good food (with actual flavor) again and partake of wine and pleasurable company in a quiet setting.

No drunken brawls; no obnoxious brother bellowing for all of the Nine Realms to hear, no—

No fleeing the raucous "party" at the first opportunity to sit at Sigyn's graveside and talk to his wife. To confess to her that…he didn't know how much longer he could bear living _without her_.

At least tonight, for a _little_ while, he truly wasn't alone. He had spent the time with another magic worker; someone like himself. Someone who listened, really _listened_, when he spoke, who didn't judge him, or cast him aside in favor of Thor. _  
"There are no men like me."_

But…was there _a woman_ out there like him? He met Wanda's sapphire eyes and wondered.

There was no harshness in her face, no revulsion of him…he let his eyes rove down her soft, full locks of curly hair.

It suddenly seemed…familiar to him. This…this entire experience seemed so…like he had done this all before—with her.

Then it hit him, how her brother had known of him and Thor—when the "silver" one's sister had come to Asgard. He leaned close to her, cautiously reached for a strand of her shiny mane and felt it between his long fingers.

Emerald met sapphire. "It was you…at the gala, all of those years ago." It wasn't a question.

Wanda only nodded, her full lips twitched in a half smile. "I thought you had forgotten me," she confessed.

Loki shook his head. "I could not. You were—" he couldn't finish the sentence aloud:

_-the only person who truly seemed to care when the grief seemed more than I could stand. _

"I never thanked you," he admitted, sounding ashamed.

"I didn't help you," Wanda softly corrected, and Loki opened his mouth to object, but she lifted a hand to halt him, "we helped each other. You had just lost Sigyn; I, Kurt."

"Your intended."

Wanda nodded soberly, dabbing her eyes with Loki's handkerchief.

Loki felt the weight of the revelation and took a steadying breath. "You were Lady Firelight," he said, mostly to himself, "I…I ought to have realized at once."

"I was one face in many."

"You were the only who was kind to me."

"I happened on you by accident; we were both suffering. What was I to do? Walk away?"

"Everyone else did."

Wanda took his hand from her hair and the curl bounced back into place; Loki smiled. Wanda's hand closed around his; her glittering eyes wet and solemn.

"Everyone else walking away doesn't make it right."

Loki was silent; he was carried away by the memories as if on a runaway current:

_He had just buried Sigyn. She had been accorded the full glory of a daughter of Odin's House when sent off to Valhalla. Loki had broken from Thor during the funereal and threw himself against Sigyn's cold, motionless form, sobbing and crying out for someone to slay him, for he could not bear to be left behind. Thor had pulled him away, holding him in a vice-like grip as he howled out his misery. _

_Sigyn was gone; taken from him._

_The only one to ever make him truly happy; she was forever lost to him._

_His precious bride; he'd never see her again, for he had no delusions of ever reaching Valhalla._

_He was a monster; he hadn't known his true parentage then…but he had known he was…flawed._

_Imperfect. Broken. Defective. Unworthy. Low. Worthless…. _

_Unworthy like his children had been declared; no, his death would take him to Niflheim._

_His only consolation was he'd see Hela again, at last, his beloved daughter._

_But, on that day, he had become obsessed with the idea of dying._

_They had buried Sigyn, but it had been him who had died that day. But only he realized it._

_Only Thor had tried to comfort him. Well, Thor and his mother. Odin had been too preoccupied with the _duties _of the Realm._

_Oh, how Loki had learned to hate that phrase: "the duties of the Realm." He loathed it; reviled it, with every fiber of his being._

_Just as he had reviled the false condolences for his loss; no one knew he had heard the whispers throughout Court: _

"_Sigyn would not have died had she chosen Thor instead." _

"_She should have married the heir."_

"_The Golden Prince."_

"_The superior one." _

"_The Golden Princess and the Golden Prince; Loki stole her with a spell, I'm sure of it."_

_Loki had refused to come to the costume ball that night. Ostensibly it was to celebrate the greatness of Sigyn's life, but Loki knew it would be used to solidify and seek out new alliances. There had been trouble with Alfheim again, and rumors that Jotunheim would try to penetrate Asgard's defenses in the near future. That, Loki had filed away for later. But, after preforming the obligatory rituals on Sigyn's behalf and pretending to eat a little to ease their mother, Loki had stolen away into the night._

_He had found a solitary bench in mother's garden to sit and ruminate on…nothing. He couldn't think, only weep quietly and regret. _

_Regret that he and Sigyn would never spend another moment together._

_Regret all the missed opportunities he had to tell her just how much he loved her._

_Regret, regret, regret, regret, regret, regret…._

_As he rose to walk aimlessly, someone walked into him._

"_Oomph!"_

_He looked down, and before him stood a slender girl, no older than 17, in a scarlet gown trimmed with black lace…the upper part of her face, the cheekbones up, concealed beneath an ornate costume mask in black sequins and beads._

"_I'm so sorry," she said sullenly, and Loki registered late the brokenness in her voice, she dabbed her eyes with a ruby silk cloth, "I—" and she froze, apparently recognizing him._

"_O..ooh..oh! Prince Loki, I'm so—"_

"_You said that," Loki emotionlessly said, turning to walk away._

"_No, please," she objected and he turned, "I intruded on you; I'll go." And stifling a sob, she spun around._

_It angered him; he had buried the only woman he'd ever love…and here was this fluff of a girl weeping over some triviality no doubt. Gall rose in his throat._

"_You make too much of nothing," he bit out as she walked away, "some fool noble jilted you on the last dance? You discovered your beau with another? Be thankful it's your only loss."_

_He blinked at how quickly she riveted on him and closed the distance between them. "I just buried my lover," she snapped fiercely, cuffing him across the face, "he was murdered before my eyes," her voice broke, "I held him as he breathed his last…and I couldn't save him! I don't care about any other man walking this or any other universe…I'll," she made a choking sound and her face was suddenly more agony-stricken than any Loki had ever see, "I'll…_never love again_," she vowed, her tone sharp but raw with grief, and Loki felt his throat close in piercing guilt._

"_I'm…," he put his head down, berating himself for stupidly assuming the worst of her, "forgive me. I knew not."_

_She calmed at that, her eyes bright in the full moonlight and glassy from tears. "I…I know you didn't," she replied, sounding sheepish, perhaps criticizing herself for her harshness, but Loki shook his head at her, to say he deserved it. _

"_I'm sorry for your loss," she suddenly said and Loki's eyes riveted up to hers. "You know now…that I know what it feels like."_

_Loki nodded, but couldn't bring himself to speak._

"_I never met Lady Sigyn," she went on, her lilting voice very gentle, "but, I only ever heard the highest praises of her. She must have been…one of a kind."_

"_She was," Loki choked out, and then seemed to lose control of his body. The next thing he knew, he was crumpling to the stone path they both stood upon, sobbing uncontrollably, his body shaking harder than at her burial. A small part of himself wondered at what the girl must think of this, a Prince of Asgard displaying such an…exhibition. But, she was abruptly there, before him, scooping his trembling form into her arms. As he cried and wailed out his misery, she held him tightly, rocked him side to side and whispered over and over it would be all right. _

_There was no judgment, no words about "duty," and "representation." _

_Only acceptance._

_Only support…comfort…understanding._

_He remained, trembling in her arms until he had sobbed himself out and his body was exhausted, sore and limp from shaking._

_When it was over, he gently shifted his body to look up at her._

_Her face was wet and shadowed with grief…a mirror of his own; he was certain. She let him rise as he made to do so._

_Both seated on the cold rock, side by side, Loki took the edge of his emerald cloak and wiped off her face, his hands cold, but tender. Neither said a word; nothing was needed, they both knew. He reached with his free hand to smooth his ruffled hair…and hand came back wet—with her tears._

_He was so selfish; he had wept openly, as she suffered in silence trying to console him whilst trapped in her own misery._

"_Forgive me," he whispered._

_She only shook her head, biting her scarlet lip to keep from weeping anew. "Don't," she rasped, "don't apologize for loving. I never will."_

_Loki could only bring himself to nod. It seemed fate took exquisite pleasure in forcing him to cross paths with those far better than himself._

_For a long while, they just sat there, holding hands in the chilled night, both too weighed down by their bereavement to find the strength to move. _

_Finally, Loki forced his aching legs to stand, and he gently pulled her up._

"_Thank you," he murmured, and lifted one of her hands. It was cold. He pressed his icy lips to it, thinking briefly that Sigyn hadn't even been this cold to the touch earlier that day. He met her eyes._

_She was empty, her dark blue eyes twin voids._

_And then, Loki realized. They were two of a kind…both killed by grief._

_Loki had become obsessed with how to die, but it was for nothing._

_He and his comforter were already dead…buried beneath misery, trapped in coffins of loss, devoid of life, of light, of happiness._

_But, for a moment, even a despairing one; he hadn't been _alone_. _

"_I never asked your name," he heard himself numbly say._

_He was rewarded by a sad smile. "Lady Aldrnari Kveykva."_

_It meant: Firelight._

_Something inside him unknotted; so…there still was a tiny ray of 'light' in his life, after all._

_His constricted throat relaxed some, and for the first time that horrific day, he could breathe. _

_The garden's many fragrances rushed up to meet him. He breathed deeply, enjoying even this tiny shred of pleasure._

"_It has truly been wonderful to meet you, my lady." And that time, his silver tongue spoke true._

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**A/N: **Yes, I'm cutting it off here. This chapter will be clarified more by the next, I promise. Again, sorry it took so long. Well, MarvelFanGirl, your wait is over! I leave this chapter to your reviewing expertise! Get to it! Hope y'all enjoyed, plz review if you did!


	19. Chapter 18: Councils & Genius

**A/N: **Hi all; thanks for bearing with me as I got chapters P-17 updated. Now, they have the chapter breaks and corrections I've been meaning to get done for quite some time now! But, with spring semester almost over and summer semester around the corner, I'm gonna try to keep this fic going as best I can. I won't ever abandon a fic; EVER, so it will go on. But, I can't promise how fast. Sorry! But, here we are, chapter 18. Let's get moving! Onward!

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_Children of the Tesseract Ch. 18: Councils & Genius_

"How did it come about," Thor couldn't stop from asking, "that your sister severed all ties to you?"

Maximoff-son had proven himself; he knew the workings of Loki's mind…through his own mage sibling, the mortal witch. Thor felt the warmth of hope surge within him.

This mortal of 'silver-quickness' would be able to give him aid after all. Thor's tense shoulders relaxed. He was grateful for this, deeply so.

Pietro sighed and leaned over the metal guard-rail again. It was expected that Thor would start with the hardest question. He would in the Asgardian's place.

"Wanda and I grew up in a royal house," Pietro began, not even blinking at the shocked start Thor reacted to that with—

"I ought to have perceived it, in your walk and manner," the Aesir prince soberly murmured.

Pietro only shrugged. It made no difference to him. "Yeah, well, it…was hard. Wanda and I loved each other, that was never in doubt…but there was…strain," he looked guilty.

"Were you the Heir? Was the throne to be yours?"

Pietro nodded.

Thor lowered his head. "Then your sister is like Loki indeed. Was she resentful of the favor shown to you?"

Pietro sighed again. "Not at first to me, but, just at the situation in general. The thing is she couldn't compete. A princess was expected to marry to secure a thriving alliance for the family. She was never given another option. But…then her mutant power appeared, around the same time as mine."

"Your sister became ill?"

It was Pietro's turn to start. "Loki did too then?"

Thor nodded his face grim. "My brother suffered for many weeks as his magic came to wakefulness."

"Fever, nausea, chills? Vertigo? Pain all over?"

"Indeed."

"Those were Wanda's symptoms too."

Something…Pietro could only describe it as 'clicked' between him and the Odinson then. They were not longer the mutant of Earth trying to prove himself to the Aesir Prince; they were two brothers, both with magical siblings, sharing their struggles with trying to be there for their younger family members—both in success and failure.

Thor expression didn't necessarily become _softer_, but less guarded, more open.

He felt the change too then, Pietro intuited.

"Wanda just collapsed at dinner one night," Pietro went on, looking towards the large windows across from them, "we were dining one moment, and then the next…," he gulped, his insides suddenly wrenching themselves apart in remembering, "she…screamed this awful scream. We all would have thought she was trying to pull something on us again…but she wretched up _blood_…all over the table. We…_I_…was so freaked out." He shuddered. "I raced out to get a doctor…I was so scared that I wouldn't get out in time. I used my mutant power _in front of everyone_—which I'd promised mom and dad I'd never do; they were afraid people might label me a…monster, for being different."

Thor blinked in shock. This man, with his special gifts, declared an _outcast_?! Impossible! It would never be so on Asgard.

Pietro caught his amazed expression. "People on earth don't judge others the way you do on Asgard. Having special powers, some people are all right with it, especially if you use them for good; you're called a hero. But…there are others," his birth father came to mind and he grimaced, his tone hardened, "who use them for their own gain, to hurt, to _kill_, and destroy. Some people though, can't tell the difference between the two; we're _all_ monsters to them. That's what my parents wanted to protect me from. My power showed itself first. They thought Wanda had escaped it…but we realized hers just took longer to wake up. We found out why later on."

"Because her power turned out to be greater?"

Pietro nodded, his face grave but his eyes alit with pride. "By far."

Thor noticed and smiled in approval. He should have supported Loki more, in his magic. He resolved, gripping Mjolnir all the tighter, he would. Once this was over and Loki was safe and home; he would.

He would never put himself before his brother, ever again.

"What became of your sister, once her magic quickened within her?"

"We had to find someone to help her control it; which we did. A kind woman named Agatha; she helped my sister learn to control her gift. Later on though, another woman came to us," he frowned, his eyes darkened; and Thor's own eyes narrowed.

"You did not approve of this woman."

"No," was the blunt reply.

"For what reason?"

"She seemed too…presumptuous," Pietro said at length, "as though she could just lord over my sister without any of us being involved. She still acts that way," he huffed out a breath in anger, "but, she makes it less obvious."

Well, he couldn't call whisking Wanda from earth for two years 'less obvious,' but he was sure Thor got the point.

"And this woman was?"

"Lady Morgana. I don't know where's she's from; I doubt _anyone_ knows that really. She's a sorceress—powerful one too."

Thor looked away, something…portentous etched in his face.

"Do you know her?"

"I know a bit of her," Thor allowed, his gaze preoccupied, "my father mentioned her once; he…did not seem to favor her."

"Yeah, well your father and I agree on that," Pietro quipped.

Thor looked up at him, silently asking Pietro to go on.

"Anyways, Agatha and Morgana trained her, but Wanda saw this as her way out; she didn't want to marry anyone, she wanted…_freedom_, she said," and at that Pietro's shoulders slumped and he suddenly sounded remorseful, "but we didn't listen."

"And this caused the rift?" Thor's tone was…tactful.

Pietro nodded sadly. "Yes," his voice grievous, "I should have listened to her better; should have tried to be more understanding. But, I wasn't; all I cared about was the crown, duty, and I saw Wanda's cry for freedom as betrayal; like she was deserting us, deserting _me_. I got angry, she got angry. It built up over time; we got farther and farther apart. Wanda began to lash out which just fueled the fire. Our parents just kept trying to tighten their hold over her; partly because they were afraid she would hurt someone; or herself. One night…it just blew up."

Pietro let his gaze rove the rows of Quinjets, needing to distance himself from the memories a moment. It was painful; it weighed him down, going back to such bleak and terrible times. He loved his twin so much….

How could he have been such an incredible…_ass_? Jerk? Pietro went through the list of all the terrible words he could dredge up; none of them—all of them—didn't seem to really encompass all of it.

Nope; he had been all of that…and much worse.

Wanda hadn't deserved it.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

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"How did your sister leave you then?" Thor quietly asked; thinking of the Bifrost.

"_I never wanted the throne! I only ever wanted to be your equal."_

Loki's tone had been so raw…so _desperate_, Thor nearly wept at thinking of it.

"_Loki, this is madness!"_

"_Is it madness? Is it? Is it!?"_

Thor realized later on, to Loki, it hadn't been madness at all.

It had been, in Loki's eyes, his _very last chance_ of ever getting their Father to notice him; to love him as he loved Thor, to persuade Odin to see his sons _equally_ worthy.

It hit Thor, days later, when he had asked himself for the millionth time why, why, why, did Loki _let go_ of Grungir!?

It had been because Loki had lost all hope; he had failed in his final chance…and he couldn't bear the idea of living forever in Thor's shadow.

"_I remember a shadow, living in the shade of your greatness."_

But, _had_ he been great? Truly? Thor had long reflected since on his many battles and exploits. But…what was greatness in war in face of total failure as a brother?

It was _nothing_; meaningless as last season's rain or sun. He sighed in resignation.

He couldn't change the past; he could only resolve to change the course he had plotted for the future, one that led to healing for himself and Loki—and all of Asgard with their second prince.

"And so," he tentatively went on, "your sister forsook you?"

Silver-son nodded. "She was about 14. After the final argument, she told my parents that they only cared about using her; she was a thing to them, not a person, and that they only loved me. She said that she was going to find her own way in life, before it was too late. And then, she vanished."

"She vanished?" Thor's stomach reeled. Like Loki did on the Bifrost? "Did you ever discover what became of her? When did you meet again?"

Pietro nodded. "Yes. After she left, she traveled the world, made many friends, but came to London one summer when it was attacked by a mutant terrorist."

"'A mutant terrorist'?" Thor echoed, "One of your kind who wreaks terror upon others?"

Pietro nodded. "Remember I told you they are out there."

Thor dipped his chin in assent. "And your sister faced him? Did she triumph?"

Pietro looked grave. "There was no battle. When the mutant saw her; he stood down. She challenged him, but he refused to fight."  
"What reason did he give?"

"Because my sister looks exactly like his dead wife."

"Then it was for sentimental reasons?"

"No," Pietro said heavily, "it was because the mutant was our birth father."

Thor's jaw dropped and he was clearly speechless. Pietro looked out over the jets again.

"My birth father is Magneto. He's probably the most powerful of all mutants, and he believes that mutants are superior to humans. He…lived a terrible life; he grew up in wartime, was captured by humans when he was a child and experimented on. He was treated like an animal. It…scarred him. He never got past it; so he lives convinced that it'll happen to all mutants one day." Pietro sighed and hung his head. "He persuaded Wanda that he was likely her birth father and invited her to Genosha—his kingdom—to have a doctor there do a blood test. The results came back positive: Wanda was his daughter."

"And did this revelation delight your sister?"

Pietro's face was a study in misery. "To no end; she felt free, liberated. She was convinced she had a new lease on life. Father already had discovered our younger sister; Lorna. She was…," he fidgeted uncomfortably, "father had had an affair with a woman named Susan"—

"What is that?"

"It's like taking a mistress I guess."

Thor kept his tone neutral—non-judgmental. "Ah."

"Lorna was the outcome. Father found her much the same was as Wanda; only, he sensed Lorna's power because it's the same as his. He also could feel that they had similar blood; and so he took her from her mother because Lorna was being persecuted. Her powers are more…obvious."

"I see. And so your two sisters bonded together?"

Another nod. "I guess Wanda liked being the older sibling for a change." He looked ready to cry. Thor squeezed his shoulder.

"You are not obligated to tell me anything more; not even what you have," he quietly reminded him.

Pietro wiped his eyes, shook the gloominess from his face. "No; no, I want you to hear this."

"Why?"

"Because I believe it'll get worse for you before it gets better." Pietro turned to face him now, his expression resilient. Thor's downcast countenance didn't catch him off guard. "But, I need you to hear how much worse it got for me, so when you're there, you'll have hope that it will get better."

Thor nodded grimly, his lips a thin line. "I am most deeply grateful, Maximoff-son."

Pietro patted his massive shoulder, and leaned against the guardrail, to steady himself.

"Wanda was trained by father, and Lady Morgana; she tracked Wanda down to Genosha and was only too happy to offer her services to Father." Pietro grimaced. "Wanda eventually was declared the Crown Princess of Genosha and heiress to Father's throne."

Thor gestured, his face and body language clearly impressed. "She reminds me of Lady Sif."

"She will more," Pietro consented soberly, "Father also made her General over all his armies, and gave her full control of the Palace: intelligence, protocol, everything. She was all but ruler already. And of course Lorna practically worshipped her," he frowned, "she still does in fact."

"And why did your father give unto her this much power?"

Pietro shrugged. "I'm not certain, to be honest. I think in part it was to cement her loyalty, in her defense though, she was an expert at all of it," his gaze hit the floor, "I didn't realize until later just how much we had all underestimated her. Once she was given a chance to prove herself, she did—to an unbelievable degree. I think now, knowing what I do, she should have inherited our adopted parent's throne, not me."

"You truly believe her more capable?"

Pietro let out a breath. "Yes; I see now that my strength is in leadership, but more of the military kind; not governance. It's just not me. Wanda can do both; and she has the charisma, people are drawn to her. She did such an amazing job with Genosha. She read endless books on how to build the Island into this utopic place." He chuckled. "She had one book in particular, I'll never forget. It was called: _The Foundations to Building a Successful Society._ It sounded horridly boring; but she thought big. She was never thinking about herself, only her people. And they knew that, and loved her for it."

"But you did not leave her there?"

"No," Pietro immediately said, "after she left, I went looking for her. I found my Father's good friend, who can see far off places in his mind"—Thor blinked and said, "Ah, like Heimdall then"—"and asked him to find her. When he told me she was with our birth father…I was at first ecstatic! I was so happy to hear one of our natural parents was alive…then he told me who my father was." Pietro had no doubts his face reflected just how devastated he had been, because Thor placed a consoling hand on his shoulder.

Thor's hand was surprisingly heavy; their body-mass must be different, Pietro deduced. "I still went there though, to confront him and get my sister back."

"It did not go well though?"

"No, not at first; Wanda believed that I only came there to take her from her new life, that I was jealous or possessive; Father took full advantage of course, tempting me to try and stay too, but I knew better. Between finding her and going there, I had joined up with X-Factor; the people I work with now, they filled me in on just what Father had been doing all the time Wanda was acting as his second. He had used her to keep things running smoothly on Genosha while he was out in the world more, causing chaos and destruction. Wanda didn't know that; but I told her. She saw the truth of it in my mind, and when Father tried to justify his actions, but she didn't agree. So, then he tried to turn her against me," his lips twisted at the remembrance. "He reminded Wanda of what I had been like; she of course had told him about me, but I think he was biding his time with arranging for me to join them. I think he expected me to be more difficult," he sputtered, "he would have been right too"—

Thor grinned widely.

"But, Wanda did become furious when he brought up our past, I saw then just how much control Father had over her. So, I realized nothing but an extreme move would get her to listen."

"What did you do?"

Pietro exhaled roughly. "What I had to: I got on my knees in front of her and begged for her forgiveness; I told her I was a worthless excuse for a brother and I didn't deserve her, that she was right to leave us, considering how we all behaved, and that I'd do anything she wanted if she would just give me another chance." His eyes filled, he sniffled and chuckled at himself. "I cried; I'm man enough to admit it."

Thor chuckled too, but not unkindly.

"So, when Father saw that she was going to give me another chance; she was crying too, and before she was threatening to blast me, but she cast away her magic, Father didn't like that."

"Did he attack you?"

A nod. "He accused me of trying to turn Wanda against him, because I, or X-Factor, wanted her powers. Wanda could see the truth though; that it wasn't because of her magic at all, and yeah, when he realized he was going to lose, he attacked me."

"But your sister delivered you?"

"Yeah, Lorna was there; she was very young, she didn't really understand what was happening, but the Acolytes were all there too—Father's most loyal warriors—"he added to Thor's bewildered look—"they all saw it too. It took years to convince Lorna that we didn't abandon her. To her, Father is a hero. She won't hear anything else." He let out a labored breath. "The Acolytes though, they're still partly loyal to Wanda. They understand why she left; they don't hold it against her. After a while, I did persuade her to join X-Factor; I wanted us to help people together."

"And what of your adopted parents?"

"They made their peace with Wanda before they died. Illness took both of them; cancer, my dad and my mom: a stroke."

Thor clearly had no concept of what those things were, except that they were 'illnesses.' That was good enough for Pietro.

"But, it was a long time before you could fully rebuild your relationship with your sister?"

"Yes; several years in fact. I had to try hard, apply a lot of effort, really invest time in getting to know my sister: her likes, what makes her laugh, her favorite foods and interests. Of course, I did cheat a little." He grinned unrepentantly.

"In what way?"

"She eventually met a boy named Kurt Wagner. He worked for the X-Men, it's kind of like X-Factor, we basically fight corrupted mutants and help people. He was a mutant, they instantly liked each other—"

"And so they became lovers?"

A nod. "Yeah, Wanda was about 18 when she left Genosha. She was 19 when she met Kurt. They were so in love," he couldn't bar the sadness from his tone.

"But, he perished? Was it in battle?"

Pietro nodded. "It broke her heart. She never forgave Father for it."

Thor nodded understanding. "One of his followers slew him then?"

"No; Father was the one who killed Kurt."

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Thor dearly hoped he hadn't heard that last part correctly.

"Your Father felled your sister's lover?"

Pietro nodded somberly. His eyes were very empty. Thor had in insight.

"He was your friend then as well?"

"A very good friend; we spent all the time we could together. We'd take trips together, eat out together"—

Thor grinned. "This also allowed you to properly chaperone your sister then."

Pietro laughed, though it was tinged with grief. "No; I trusted him, in fact I would have trust no one else with Wanda, not like that anyways. He was the best of men. He had more merits than 100 men put together. I had a lot of respect for him."

"Was he killed to punish your sister?" It was a cruel question, and Thor immediately regretted asking it, but he suspected that was only part.

"That was probably the larger reason," Pietro heavily confessed, "Father was livid with Wanda for 'betraying' him, he still is, and he hated that from his standpoint, his daughter and heiress had left him to join the enemy…and fell in love with one of the enemy. He took it as the highest betrayal possible."

"I see," Thor quietly said, "I am very sorry for you and your mage-sister. My brother lost his love once too; he never recovered from it."

And his children were all taken from him and condemned to lonely if not out rightly terrible fates; but that part he kept to himself. He didn't like the how easy it was in this moment to compare his own Father to this 'Magneto' who sired silver-son.

"What will you do?" Silver-son suddenly asked. Thor looked at him.

"You'll eventually try to reason with Loki."

Thor nodded.

"What will you say?"

Thor sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I'm not certain." He looked towards the large windows where light flooded in. "That I am sorry; that I wish for him to come home. That I cannot imagine dwelling all the ages to come if he is not there; I am…incomplete, without him."

He didn't care when his body practically hunched over with the awful weight of such an idea. Living one Midgardian year without Loki was sheer, unadulterated agony. But to live all the millennia to yet arrive?

Thor would rather be dead. Pietro gave him a thoroughly understanding look, but then he pressed his mouth in a very serious line. "Thor, there is something else I need to tell you."

Thor met his eyes. Steel blue; he had never seen the like on Asgard.

"When we first brought Loki here, I…had a private talk with him. Something happened that I need you to know about."

Thor gestured for him to go on. He could tell it was of dire import, from Silver-son's face.

"While talking to Loki, I saw his eyes"—

The intercom broke through:

"Thor and Pietro, please report to the bridge at once." It was Fury. Then came the static of someone trying to take the mic and sounds of argueing.

It was Stark and Fury.

"Give me that!"

"You're just jealous cause I'm a genius!"

"What you are is pain, Stark!"

"It is painful, to be so talented!"

"Give back the mic or I'll have Hill taze you!"

Then Stark's voice came overhead. "Uh, yeah, attention this is Stark: millionaire, playboy, philanthropist"—static from mic-wrestling—"please come on over to the bridge ASAP to behold how my colossal genius will save us all."

Before the comm went silent, they heard Fury bellow: "Hill! Get over here with your tazer!"

Silence.

Thor chuckled, Pietro shook his head.

"Are you sure you wanna help save this world Thor?"

Thor laughed louder. "Now, more than ever Maximoff-son. Shall we be off?"

Pietro grinned and was instantly at the other end of the hall. "I'll tell them you're coming!" he called back. It was clearly a challenge. Thor raised Mjolnir.

"No; I shall tell you are coming!" he said, and flew passed Pietro.

But as Thor rushed through the halls, riding the air, a blur of blue flew past him.

And he could have sworn he saw it waving back at him.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

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"My massive, unparalleled genius has done it again," Stark declared.

Prodigy tapped his shoulder. "Uhhh, yeah, the 'WOW-ers, Banner and Forge get credit too."

"I'm ok with 15% credit."

"What!?"

Fury gestured for silence. Emma broke it.

The telepath shook her head. "Do you truly believe that these devices, which you made to track the energy signals of inter-dimensional energy signatures, shall actually work?"

Stark's jaw dropped. "How did you know-?"

"Telepath, remember?" she tolerantly reminded him. "You used the energy signatures that SHIELD and Forge recorded as a base, modified certain trackers which are built into your suit, then proceeded to"—

"Okay, okay, don't give away all of my secrets!"

Emma only smiled; it was too innocent to be genuine.

Jean and the others who were gathered around the oval table again all exchanged looks.

"Stark, you have a plan to go with these, I'm sure," Dr. Grey put in.

It was Banner who nodded. "We're going to fire these up, and then attach them to satallites, towers, anything high up, all around the world. When an inter-dimensional gate begins to open, we'll be able to respond faster, get better, more thorough readings sooner, and with some of the modifications that Forge designed, we might even be able to send out signals to block the opening…even if it's just for a while."

Emma looked impressed. Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Great job Dr. Banner, Stark, guys," Steve said to the team. Forge had stayed behind, asking Fury if perhaps SHIELD had any weapons that he could augment the Hummingbird with—in addition to what it already had. Fury had given him free reign of the storage compartments below-decks—well, most of them anyways.

Steve had filed that fact away for later. He knew Stark had too. It was suspicious, though to Stark, everything was suspicious.

If he didn't get enough alcohol when he wanted, there was a conspiracy for sure.

Jean picked up one of the devices. There were over 2 dozen total; flat and disc-like, about three centimeters thick and had the width of a tea cup. Electrodes and intricate circuitry wove around its surface, except for a silver metal band that wound around its edge.

"I can have the Phoenix teleport us all to the various places where these need to be installed."

"That'd be perfect," Steve said with a grateful smile.

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**A/N: **Thanks again for bearing with me with the updates. I hope this chapter at least makes up for it in part! Till next time!


	20. Chapter 19: Past Meets Present

**A/N:** Ok, so LOTS to say here; firstly, SORRY! Sorry that this was soooo long in the making; I've had SO much madness in my life it's just…yeah. They haven't invented a word yet to define it. I had a huge back injury that had me bedridden for over a week; then my laptop died and I only to it back yesterday; I lost my job a week ago and have only yesterday started by new job. It's just been nuts; but I don't wanna take the entire thing listing ALL the nuttiness, just the highlights I think will do it ;P Anyways, thanks a million for being so beautifully patient on this; I'm gonna try to update a LITTLE more frequently; but don't wanna promise it cause I hate breaking promises! So…plz enjoy…and to MarvelTolkienFanGirl; here's your chapter! I now expect a LONG review! Onward!

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_Children of the Tesseract Ch.19: Past Meets Present_

Loki stared down at Wanda's hand, still resting in his.

"I never thanked you," he murmured.

He didn't see her small smile, but her laugh was soothing to his ears. There was something, restful in being near her.

"Oh, I don't know," she said casually, "you did dance with me."

Loki reflexively smiled. "I did…."

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_After Loki and "Lady Firelight" had recovered themselves as best they could, Loki was seized by a vicious surge of gratitude. It was foolish, he knew to be so overcome…but she had been kind to him._

_Other than mother and occasionally Thor, no one was ever kind to him._

_His children were gone._

_Sigyn was dead._

_Thor was so preoccupied with himself; Loki felt as though he were sinking, drowning even in Thor's shadow. Even now, he could hear his drunken, idiot of a brother bellowing in the palace's great hall. He shook his head in shame._

_Firelight…Wanda only grinned. "My brother has his moments too; don't let them bother you."_

_Loki looked at her incredulously. No one had ever spoken so about the exalted and illustrious Thor! _

_Had he even heard her correctly? He must have, because she grinned at his amazed face._

"_I sometimes think older brothers were put into our lives to embarrass us," she flippantly went on, grinning wider at his face, "after all, who else but an older brother could get away with what they do and still know we'll love them tomorrow?"_

_Loki mirrored her grin, astonishing himself by feeling heartened by her words. "No one, I daresay."_

"_Hmmm, and I'm sure you're right," Wanda agreed, "my poor brother would run into every wall I think, or be married to 100 horrible women by now, were it not for me."_

_Loki tilted his head to one side. "Is your brother a braggart? Do his words and actions aggravate you?"_

_Another grin and chuckle. "Not so much a braggart; mainly because he knows I'll tear him down. But the rest: only every moment of every day."_

_Loki chuckled. _

"_But, he knows no matter what, I'll always love him," Wanda added, looking towards the palace. "It must be nice on some level, to see your brother every day, especially in times like this; I see my brother not nearly as much."_

_Loki looked away. "No, not for me. You see yourself; Thor only cares about glorifying himself. My wife is not even been gone one whole day; yet he is drunk and celebrates his renown."_

_No; there would be no compassion or sympathy from Thor. Loki knew that the only reason Frigga wasn't out here trying to console him is because she was in there working to maintain some sort of order. He sighed._

_He would have no time to grieve, to mourn Sigyn. Thor would see to that; tomorrow, he'd be keeping Thor alive and whole and safe from his own foolish blundering—per usual._

"_Well, I'll take you up on that," Wanda avowed._

"'_Take me up'?"_

"_You made an offer, for me to see for myself. I'll go along with it. Let me see Thor."_

_Loki didn't want to do that; if Firelight saw Thor, she'd be immediately consumed by his golden hair and flawless, muscular body—just like all the others._

_Wanda gave him a knowing look. "No one could replace Kurt," she said, as if reading his mind._

_Loki flushed; embarrassed that he was found out. He cleared his throat and tried to collect himself. There was only one thing to do. He bowed._

"_It would please me very much then, to be your escort. Shall we dance?"_

_He heard the music of her soft laughter. "It'd be a pleasure."_

_As she took his arm, Loki only hoped what lay within the palace wouldn't humiliate him too badly._

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_When they arrived in the monolithic doorway leading into the golden hall, Loki wanted to groan._

_Well; not everyone was drunk, food was spilled on the floor and a few people were passed out, but the greater majority seemed mostly sober. _

_He sighed in relief; until Thor stumbled up to them._

"_Brother!" he hailed loudly, teetering a little bit, "I was about to lead a search party for you!"_

_Loki groaned, glanced at Wanda. "We should"—_

_Wanda remained where she was, her sapphire eyes now fixed on Thor. Loki was about to admit defeat—again—until he registered her expression._

_It was etched with disapproval…of Thor._

_It took all of Loki's strength to not fall over in amazement._

"_Ah, I see you have found company in your travels, brother," Thor declared, "and lovely company at that." He took Loki's shoulder and shook it proudly. "I told you all was not lost, Brother; that you would carry on."_

_Loki wanted to strike Thor where he stood; drunk or not, wounds, just barely scabbed over, ripped open. He lifted a fist._

_How dare he…when Sigyn was not even cold yet…._

_Suddenly there was a flash of scarlet flame and Thor was gone._

_Loki gasped. Magic! And it had come from Firelight! He riveted to her._

"_My deepest sympathies," she deadpanned, staring at where Thor had just stood, "I probably would have killed him by now, were he my brother."_

_Loki could not help but chuckle. "And…what of all you just said before? Of loving in face of anything and everything?"_

"_I may have to revise that, just for you."_

_Loki laughed, full out. Clamped a hand over his mouth, but still felt the tears come._

_Only, they were not tears of pain, this time._

"_May I have this dance?" he asked, still tittering between words. Wanda smiled. _

_It was breathtaking. For a moment he let himself stare._

"_I would love to," she said after a moment._

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_Loki knew as he held Wanda, his one arm wrapped around her slender waist and the other holding her cool hand that he could never feel such affection again, not like he did for Sigyn._

_Wanda's declaration in the garden of: 'I will never love again,' rang true for him._

_No one would replace Sigyn in his heart; that was impossible; he resigned himself to that now._

_No; even as he saw the looks the Aesir were throwing at him over their cups, even as the insidious whispers began, there would be no love affair springing to life between him and Wanda. _

_He and Firelight shared mutual pain; he found comfort in her, and he liked to think he'd offered some comfort to her as well. _

_He thought he was; Wanda didn't speak as they danced, her brow resting against the front of his one elbow, he heard her muted sniffles from time to time._

_The musicians seemed to sense that they were in no mood for fast songs, and so stayed with ballads and such; slow music. _

_Loki threw them a grateful smile. _

_He let himself take deep breaths of the soft fragrance she wore, it lingered like the night breeze in her long, full mane. He let his check lean against her hair. For a time, there was some peace, some repose; some momentary escape._

_It was enough._

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_As the faint jade of dawn crept over the horizon, Loki realized that he and Wanda were alone in the great hall._

_Well, aside from those sprawled out randomly, passed out from too much mead and ale._

_Loki had used his magic to enchant the instruments to continue playing long after the musicians had turned in for the night._

_He and Wanda continued their slow, silent dance as the first rays of day bathed the sky in a pale glow. He could sense she was preparing to leave._

"_Please don't," he said without thinking. He flinched at the rawness of his words, the desperation._

_She nestled against his front. "I wish I didn't have to."_

"_Then don't. Odin would gladly invite you to stay."_

"_Your invitation wouldn't suffice then?"_

"_Would you accept it if I made it?"_

"_I would be tempted to."_

_Only tempted; that was the same as no._

_He sighed, reluctantly let go of her. "Will I ever see you again?" he hated his hollow tone._

_She looked mournful. "I don't know," she admitted, looking away._

"_Will you try to return, someday?" That should be open enough._

"_I don't want to make a promise I can't keep."_

_He could tell she was trying to be kind, be gentle, but he shuddered involuntarily. He felt certain that if she left, the emotional bandages she had wound around his fractured, mangled spirit would tear away, leaving him bleeding and exposed again._

_He bit his lip to keep from begging her. When green met sapphire, he could see that she had gleaned his feelings. His arms acted on their own volition, pulling her close. Her hands came up to rest on his shoulders._

"_Promise me," he pled, "that you'll at least try to come back. I'm only asking for 'try.'"_

_She nodded; her eyes filled with…everything's. "I promise to try; I hope we will meet again."_

_Her lips brushed gossamer-light against his cheek…and she was gone._

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"You never came back," Loki said tonelessly, gazing into her eyes for an explanation.

"I know," she whispered, her tone too remorseful for it to be false. "I did try though; I just was never able. A couple of times I did open a portal to Asgard…but…."

"But?"

Jewel-like orbs met his eyes, and he wondered at the tiny blush in her cheeks. "I'm still not very good at world-walking. The two times I tried…I wound up…elsewhere."

He could read the lack of a lie in her face, heard the lack in her voice.

"Where did you find yourself then?"

Wanda shrugged, looked away. "That's not important."

Translation: _I don't want to tell you_. Loki didn't press, not wishing to ruin the evening. He gestured.

"So, now what shall you do?"

Wanda smiled, but suddenly looked away, as if hearing some far, distant sound.

She sighed tolerantly. "Well, considering I hear your brother calling; I guess I have to take you back."

Before Loki could even blink, they were both sitting in his cell; Wanda back in her mage uniform. She offered him a wan smile.

"Please don't take this the wrong way," she began, "your high-maintenance brother is your problem; I still have my own."

Loki couldn't help but snicker; she chuckled in return.

She made to teleport out, but he grasped her wrist. "My thanks, for the meal…and conversation." He looked meaningfully into her eyes. "It meant a great deal, to meet again."

Wanda shocked him by putting her free hand over his. "It did to me too," she softly confessed, and then was gone in a flash of scarlet fire.

"Brother!" he heard Thor bellow from the doorway. "We must speak!"

Loki groaned as he rose to his feet.

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Jean and Emma had sensed Wanda's return and were waiting for her in a control room that overlooked the cell area.

Wanda appeared beside them. She nodded to Emma, who only said: "Wanda." Her gaze then fixed on Jean.

"Thank you, so much Dr. Grey for coming."

Jean nodded. "You sensed the Phoenix's return then."

A nod. "Yes, Emma did too, that's why she met you at Xavier's. I was…busy with something else."

"Ah yes, you and, who is the one you work with now? Ber?"

Another nod.

"He came to the mansion recently to check on your…other friend. He's doing very well, I hope you know."

Wanda beamed a relieved smile. "I do; I'm so grateful to you and the Professor. After what he went through, I wasn't sure his mind could even be repaired."

Jean soberly nodded. "I know; I was concerned about that too, at first. He sees only the Professor, me and Ber." She grinned suddenly and Emma looked confused at it. "He likes his nickname too: Woofie. It fits him well; he prefers to be called that instead of his actual-name."

Wanda looked crestfallen at that. "After what his grandfather did; I don't blame him."

"Speaking of family," Emma smoothly interrupted, gesture to the view-port which gave full sight into the cell area, Thor strode in.

"This ought to be…revealing," Emma said.

"I know what I saw in Pietro's mind," Wanda affirmed, "I'm sure he's right."

"We'll soon know," Jean consented.

They all watched.

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**A/N: **OK kiddos; enjoy! Plz leave a review! They'll really make my day


	21. Chapter 21: The Threat Unveiled

**A/N:** Hey all; thanks much for the reviews I got last chapter! I was thinking that after going so long w/o updating there were probably no readers left following this fic! LOL; but I'm very happy to be wrong! I did get a couple questions; but I'll leave the answers as: they will be addressed in the coming chapters, so plz be patient! Otherwise, here we go! Got a ways to go yet, so onward!

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_Children of the Tesseract Ch. 20: The Threat Unveiled_

Loki dearly wished he were still in Wanda's apartment; he so yearned to hear her musical laughter rather than Thor's bellowing voice.

"Brother! We must speak!" he declared by way of 'greeting.' Loki sighed.

Thousands of years, all of the ages passed…and Thor still was a buffoon.

Loki turned his back to the doorway as Thor swept regally into the chamber. Loki perhaps could still shut out his obnoxious voice, as he had often been driven to when trying to read at the dining table, or whilst concealed in some discreet corner for privacy, but at least this way, he was guaranteed not being forced to look at dear not-brother.

It was something at least.

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Thor steeled his resolve as he arrived at the cell area where Loki was confined. He had practically taken Mjolnir to his own head so desperate was he for the correct words to say to his brother, words that would soothe the terrible chasm torn between them, words that would convey to Loki just how tormenting the guilt was that he bore over him…but no words came.

Words; they ever rallied to Loki's causes, but never to his own.

He stood before the chamber's opening; he'd perceived a flash of scarlet light as he drew near.

Whatever the light was, it had vanished as Thor stepped over the threshold; he felt his nerve about to give when Loki rose to his feet and spun away, placing his back to Thor.

The message was clear: "go away."

Thor swallowed hard; facing a thousand Jotuns in battle was less daunting than this.

Jotun; Odin had told him the truth…at last. He could scarce still believe it.

Loki…a Jotun. Laufey's son no less.

"_Only one of you can ascend to the throne…but both of you were born to be kings,"_ Odin had said long, long ago.

Only after hearing the tale of how their father had discovered Loki abandoned…only minutes old and dying alone in the Jotun Temple did Thor truly understand his father's statement from all those eons past.

He pushed away the thoughts and loudly avowed to Loki that they had to speak before he thought too much and became frozen with indecision.

He would always love Loki; no matter of bloodline or lies or overthrows for the throne could change that. He came to a halt before the special glass enclosure caging his brother and compelled himself to _look_ at Loki; really look at him and give Loki his full attention.

That had one of his many failings before; he'd rarely if ever given Loki his undivided attention and Loki, far too perceptive for his own good, assuredly knew that.

Thor winced guiltily.

Loki made no further movements of acknowledging him. His arms were folded, and he was stone-still. Thor could not even see the other breathing; he placed Mjolnir down near his boots and moved around the prison, so he could face Loki properly. His brother saw his movement though and turned away again and Thor stopped mid-step.

"Loki, turning away from me will not send me away."

Loki didn't move. "No," he drawled lightly, "the only means I ever found to have freedom from you was to fall into a wormhole."

"_Loki, Loki…DON'T! Noooooo!"_

Fresh pain lanced through Thor; he took a step back. "Please do not speak of that so, brother."

Loki spun around then, his emerald eyes flashing. "No, you do not speak to me so, Odinson!" He gestured at Thor viciously, and Thor gaped when he realized his brother's pupils were wild and dilated. "You dare to come here, as if to be my savior, ridicule me for your arrogant blundering—be gone!" He slammed his fists against the glass, harder than Thor believed him capable and the other jumped before caching himself.

Loki smirked coldly at his reaction. "Ohhh, did I catch you off guard, Odinson?" he sneered softly. "Perhaps I am not the little weakling you all believed me to be."

"I never thought"—Thor cut himself short at the livid transformation in Loki's face.

"_Do…not…lie…to…me!_" Loki hissed. "Do not dare lie to the god of lies! I was always less to you, always lower…I could laugh at it now." He paced around in his cell, grinning thoughtfully at Thor, as if something did greatly amuse him. "I the lesser: when all along you were _the pawn_. Odin's _greatest accomplishment_, perfectly groomed by the All Father- or so we all thought." He snickered. "But, your coronation proved you weren't as well _conditioned_ by your 'master' as we all believed." He chuckled. "Instead, you brought _war_ to Asgard, as if your incompetence _designed_ it all along; and you were merely _searching for some means to_ _enhance yourself_ all the more." He laughed frigidly.

Thor ground his teeth. He hated it when Loki did this, poking and prodding to rile his temper. But, he held his ground. He knew that Loki was only taunting him to prove himself right: that Thor cared nothing for him, but only for retrieving the Tesseract.

Of doing Odin's bidding, ergo, being the All Father's 'pawn.'

But, Thor would not yield; he wouldn't prove Loki correct this time; because he wasn't correct this time.

"I will not be baited, brother," Thor quietly told him.

The fists slammed against the glass again; the 'bang!' of them reverberated throughout the large chamber.

"I'm not your brother!" Loki spat. "I was nothing more than a pawn, a fail-safe, to be used and discarded at their leisure."

Loki's alabaster fists were still pressed against the glass; Thor placed his palms on the other side of his cell, it was the closest thing he could do to holding Loki's hands. He often had, when they were children and Loki had awakened screaming from some horrid nightmare and Thor had to comfort him.

He'd often wondered why Loki had been plagued with nightmares while Thor had not; had that been caused by the presence of magic as well?

He'd ask Silver-son later; perhaps his sister had been afflicted likewise.

"_You_ won't be baited?" Loki echoed thinly, "_You_? Do you think me a fool, Odinson?"

"You know I do not," Thor gently answered, his gaze holding Loki's; he saw his brother twitch at that, good; it meant he'd not expected blunt honesty then.

"Get out," Loki whispered after a moment of searching Thor's face; Thor wondered what Loki had been seeking, and could not tell whether he'd found it or not, "you think I know not your ploy?"

"Ploy?"

"Yes," Loki bit out, "you come here, feed me false words of consolation, in the hopes I'd betray some vital snippet of use to your…allies." He straightened, and gestured toward the devices that hung from the ceiling that the mortal Rogers-son had called 'cameras.' "You think me unaware? This chamber is watched as closely as if by Heimdall himself." He smirked again. "Your mortal friends are listening to every word we utter now; was that not the plan? You come here with words to soothe me, and I, in my 'weakness' would reveal some pertinent information to you?"

Thor huffed out a sigh. "Loki, when in times past have I ever been capable of deceiving you, or anyone for that matter? Words and deception are your talents, not mine. I came to speak truth to you, not falsehood."

Loki snarled. "What I believe, Odinson, is that you would speak whatever 'truths' Odin commanded of you. All he cares for is the retrieving of his precious Lost Jewel. Well, tell him I shan't provide aid. Why should I? All he ever did was take from me and use me. I shall never aid him, not now or ever!"

Thor blinked. "Loki," he whispered in disbelief, "our father never took anything from you! How can you accuse him so?"

"Oh," Loki ground out, and Thor's lips parted in shock when he saw Loki's eyes fill, "you do not believe _my children_ count?" His tone was thick with venom—and pain.

Thor shuddered, remembering. He put his head down and missed the blue that glimmered for a second in Loki's eyes.

How could he have not thought of that!?

"Forgive me, Loki, I"—

"I will not," Loki shot back, crumbling to his knees. Thor stepped back to the cell as he watched the tears stream down his face. "He took them from me and you did _nothing_. You profess to care for me," he laughed, but this time it was completely broken and empty and Thor wanted nothing more than to smash the glass with Mjolnir and hold him…but he dared not test the mortal Fury's warning about the glass being 'scratched.'

"I know better," Loki finished, "I off all beings know how meaningless words can be; and that is what your words are, Odinson: meaningless. For you have already revealed to me the truth…by your actions."

Thor opened his mouth to protest, to admit he'd made perhaps endless mistakes and that he deeply regretted them all, that he'd do whatever it took to make it up to Loki, but-

"Thor," Fury's voice came over the intercom, "report to the bridge immediately.

Loki snickered, as if he'd been expecting this. "And so," he told Thor in a patronizing voice, "your new one-eyed king summons you; well, go to him, Odinson. Do as you are bidden."

Thor prepared himself for the surge of anger that he was always seized by when Loki used that condescending tone…but it didn't come.

He wondered why, until he watched Loki wobble to his feet and gracelessly turn away. Loki's one hand lingered on the glass, it was little more than skin on bone. As Loki slowly made his way to the bench fixed into the far side of his prison and sat himself down, it struck Thor how exhausted his brother must be.

But, then why; why exert himself on such an exhibition? Make such a scene, especially when he knew the Midgardians were observing all? They surely would not be quelled by it; surely Loki realized his performance would not result in their surrender?

Wait; Thor froze.

Performance.

He turned and his boots clanked loudly as he moved to the door in long strides.

He paused in the doorway and turned; he was surprised to see Loki watching him, his face vacant.

But, the light over him reflected on the fresh tear-tracks running down his face.

Worry lanced through Thor; he had to get his brother home, as quickly as possible. But, he couldn't simply leave him here now, like this.

"Loki," he gravely avowed, "I failed you as a brother"—

Loki actually blinked in surprise.

"But I swear to you, I shan't fail you again." And he strode quickly for the bridge.

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Emma sighed heavily, her arms folded as they watched Thor leave Loki from the observation room over the cell area.

"Well," she grimly said, now fixing her intense gaze onto Loki, "you were right." She glanced at Wanda.

Wanda exhaled slowly. "I wish I hadn't been; but you saw his eyes—they changed. The same color as the Tesseract."

Jean nodded. "So, he is being controlled then; that makes this even more complicated."

Emma turned to her, her expression sour. "Oh, and how is that?"

Jean's shoulders dropped as she staved off frustration. "Because," she retorted, "if Loki's an unwilling participant, then he's just as much a victim as Agent Barton and Doctor Selvig."

Emma snorted. "You don't know that; he may have agreed to this."

Jean threw an incredulous look at her. "And why would he do that!?"

"Because he may have gone to the Chitauri for the means of gaining his own world; he can't have Asgard after all. They may have turned on him at some later point just as much as he once turned on Thor and his family." Emma scrutinized Loki with distaste, then faced Jean. "People do that, Dr. Grey: turn on their peers for gain."

Jean folded her arms. "I have no doubt you have," she flatly replied.

Emma only regarded her with an unimpressed face, then looked her shoulder to Wanda. "We should tell the others."

Wanda didn't move. She had pulled a sleek android phone from her cape and was texting on the screen to someone.

"Who are you texting?" Jean asked curiously.

"My associate, Ber," Wanda distractedly said. "A thought just occurred to me; he and I are going to look into it. You two go ahead, I'll catch up."

Emma shrugged indifferently and headed for the door. Jean walked over to Wanda; put a hand on her shoulder.

"You're not going to disappear on us again, are you?" her tone was laced with knowing.

Wanda met her eyes somberly. "I'm going to do what I have to, Dr. Grey, just like anyone else."

"Don't go too far, and please let us know beforehand, all right?"

The other's eyes narrowed. "What are you…"—

Jean's lips tightened in a line. "Whatever is about to happen, Wanda, it has to be soon. The Phoenix feels certain she can defeat Loki in a duel; but…that still leaves everything else. The Tesseract's ripple through time and space, remember?"

"How could I forget?"

"Please, stay close by, I feel," she half-shuddered, "something's coming, soon."

Wanda nodded slowly, her face lined dourly. "I know; I can feel it too."

Jean squeezed her shoulder a trifle and then trailed after Emma. Wanda finished and sent her message. Ber would get back to her in a minute or two.

Time enough to check on Loki.

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When Jean entered the bridge area, the Avengers, Fury and Hill were standing at a large round table; it was divided into sections each equipped with a viewing screen still feeding in from the prison area.

Everyone was listening to Thor.

"…I know his words were meant as some sort of performance; intended for a purpose," Thor was saying to everyone, "I simply cannot divulge what that purpose may be."

"So, what he said to you wasn't even really what he meant to say," Rogers clarified.

Thor shook his head. "He oft times did it when we were children; when he'd discovered some new place he wished for us to explore together, yet without our parents' knowledge." He sighed, as if longing to return to those simpler times. "Yet, his anger was so very genuine, it…it is harder for me now to glean his true intent."

Emma came to stand near an open chair, yet didn't sit down. The Cuckoos lingered to her left; she'd asked them telepathically keep an eye on Wanda, one glance at their somewhat vacant gazes told her they were at their task.

The Widow was staring at her monitor of Loki. "So, in other words, he was speaking to you in a code."

Thor nodded. Widow's face looked thoughtful for a moment. She pursed her lips as a thought came to her and she replayed their 'conversation.'

Stark paced behind Fury, who was standing, leaning with his hands propped on the back of the chair beside Widow's.

"Code, code," Stark was saying aloud, "oh come on!" he said more to himself than anyone else. "I crack codes all the time; this should be easy for me!"

Fury rolled his one eye. "Yeah, we know, Stark. You break into SHIELD's systems all the time."

"Well, you just need better security protocols then; like mine."

"Uh-huh, are you suggesting I let you reprogram all of SHIELD's security? No way; you cause me enough trouble."

"Well, if I programmed the security, it'd at least present a challenge for me when I break into it then."

Fury impaled him with a fantastic glower that regrettably went unnoticed.

"Well," she mock-lightly began and all sets of eyes, sans Widow and Stark turned to her, "I have news that will no doubt make this all the more…interesting."

Fury exhaled loudly, preparing himself. "Let's hear it," he dryly said.

"Our residential villain…is perhaps not so much a villain."

She was bombarded by bewildered looks.

She saw Widow blink as she quietly replayed the sequence on her vid panel. "She's right," the assassin suddenly interrupted. "Everyone, look at this."

All but Stark, Emma and the Cuckoos crowded around Widow. She froze the cell dialogue at the part where Emma already knew they'd be able to see for themselves Loki's blued eyes.

"Oh," Fury exasperatedly began and lunged into a very colorful string of profanities. "Are you kidding me? Him too!?" He threw his hands up and paced to the nearby guardrail overlooking the bridge area below.

"Blue eyes," Rogers grimly observed. "That makes Loki no different than Barton, if the Chitauri got him too."

"But, it's not the same," Jean added as she swiftly entered the meeting area. She came to stand beside Emma. "His control only shows itself at certain moments. He's under their control, but at the same time, still has conscious free will—more or less."

"How is that possible?" Banner asked, clearly wanting to analyze the new information.

Jean shrugged. "The Phoenix isn't fully versed on the Chitauri, but what she does know is that they are experts at two things: genocide and mind control. They've spent eons perfecting the process of bringing different species under their subjugation in any number of ways. Loki's is harder to detect because he maintains an element of his will; but," and everyone stilled when Dr. Grey's face well…greyed, "she also tells me that means the mind control link is much deeper…and he, Loki in the end had to willingly submit to them for their control to go that deep."

Thor adamantly shook his head. "Loki is strong willed; he would never break, not for any realm."

Jean offered him a thoroughly sympathetic face. "Thor," she gently confessed, "I'm sorry, but he did. I don't know what means they used"—

"They threatened his children," Widow flatly interrupted.

Everyone riveted to her.

"How do you know that?" Rogers asked.

"Because, he's speaking in code," Widow replied, her voice clipped and professional, she gestured to the monitor, "if that's true, then the question is: why was he? If he still has some level of control over himself, then he would want to find some way to warn us he's being controlled; that he's a pawn"-

"Pawn!" Stark exclaimed. "That's it! That's the code!"

Fury's shoulders dropped. "Stark!" he said. "Do you have to do that!"

"Be a genius? Always," was the snarky reply. He moved over to Widow's seat, shoving everyone out of the way and replayed the part where Loki first said the word: pawn.

"Now, listen everyone," he directed and turned up the volume. His eyes were bright and lit with exuberance. "Do you hear it?"

Blank expressions all around.

Stark sighed. "Look, I know you're not all as brilliant as me, but _listen_. He's emphasizing certain words; listen for what those words are."

Stark rewound it again and they did. Widow wrote them down on a notepad.

"Pawn, war, conditioned," Rogers recited.

"Yes," Stark agreed, "and listen for this part: 'a means to enhance yourself.'"

"That would be the Tesseract," Banner put in.

Widow nodded, her face lined with concern. "But the last two are: 'my children.'"

Rogers sighed. "So, the Chitauri are threatening them. And he was trying to tell Thor that."

"No," Fury clarified, "trying to tell _us_. He admitted to Thor that he knows we were listening; that means he wanted us all to know it."

"That he's not the real enemy," Thor quietly concluded, relief palpable in his voice. "I knew he would never betray us; betray Asgard." He rubbed his brow, his posture straighter as if a monolithic burden were lifted off his shoulders.

"All right," Widow cut in, wanting to stay on topic, "if his children are being threatened"—

"They we need to know where they are; if they're not in danger, Loki might be willing to just turn the Tesseract over to us." Fury concluded, turning to Thor. "Well?"

"Loki has four children," Thor avowed, "but two of them are in Asgard; they are no peril there."

"You're sure?" Fury sounded doubtful.

Thor nodded. "Since the destruction of the Bifrost, entering Asgard is impossible."

"Then how do you plan on going home, Point Break?" Stark quipped.

Thor frowned at him. "By drawing power from the Tesseract after it is retrieved. It has the means to open such a portal…as you've already seen."

"And Asgard has no other…ways, paths of getting in?" Rogers asked.

Thor opened his mouth to deny it, but paused. Widow's eyes narrowed.

"Loki knows other ways in, doesn't he?" she intuited. "That's why he's scared…and going along with this."

"Because what he knows, they know," Emma dryly put in, "yes, I'm sure." She gave Thor a critical look. "Your…Gatekeeper, does Loki know how to evade his notice?"

Thor nodded, his expression miserable. "He is not called the Trickster for nothing, Lady Emma."

Fury groaned, rubbing his brow with one hand. "And so they'll know not only how to get in, but how to do so without being noticed—fabulous. Well, that's two kids with bull's eyes on them. Anyone else I need to know about?"

"There is Hela, his daughter," Thor softly replied, "but she is far from any danger, in Niflheim."

"And that means what, exactly?" Fury demanded.

"Niflheim is a very difficult realm to breach…as it is a dead realm," Thor explained, "she will be the least imperiled."

"And that leaves the World Serpent, Jorgurmandr," Widow emotionlessly supplied, she leveled Thor a harsh look, "who, if the stories are true, was cast out of Asgard, by your father."

Thor nodded miserably. "It is so, Lady Natasha."

"And uh," Fury sardonically asked, "where was he cast to?"

Thor regarded him direly. "To your realm: Midgard."

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**A/N: **Well, that's it for now; plz enjoy! Leave a review!


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